I hate my name. No one who has known me for longer than 5 minutes can escape hearing that I hate my name. Sometimes it takes all of the 30 seconds for me to tell them what my name is, them respond “Oh… That’s an unusual name!” and get an immediate “I hate it”.
I have hated my name for as long as I can remember. I hate the sound of it, I hate that it sounds a bit like Tantrum (thanks to my brother for starting that nickname) and a lot like a feminine hygiene product. I hate that it has a harsh sound to it, and that no one can ever spell it or pronounce it correctly. I hate that the entire world sees Tamsin and suddenly becomes dyslexic, with Tasmins all over the place (note to all charities – if you start an email to me with “Dear Tasmin” you can assume I’m not going to read the rest of it). Who are these Tasmins anyway? It seems to be a name everyone knows, despite my never meeting any (and I’ve met quite a few Tamsins).
There’s judgment that comes with my name. Like it’s somehow my fault that I have an unusual name. The number of times I’ve given my name on the phone and had back an incredulous “Samson?!” which bothers me anyway because what if my name was Samson? Would that make me feel good about it? My favourite one was the rude receptionist at my strata company
Receptionist: “What is your name?”
Me: “Tamsin”
Receptionist: *big sigh as if I’m the most stupid person on the planet* “Your first name”
I hate all the nicknames that come with my name, with the exception of T. I hate Tam, Tammy, Tampon, Tantrum, and the worst one, Tams, like you were just too lazy to go “n”.
The worst thing about my name, however, is the ability for people to say it like an insult. There was a guy at my school who said my name exactly how Jerry Seinfeld says Newman. “Hello Tamsin”. I have a cousin who looks like me and growing up whenever she would muck up, have a tantrum, or was stubborn about something, her mother would say “Alright, Tamsin” to which she would scream “I’m not Tamsin!”
And that’s the crux of the matter. My name is associated with everything undesirable in another human being. I am a walking, talking, living insult to those who knew me as a child or a teenager. I’m a horror story. I’m the person you don’t want your kids to be. There is nothing anyone can do to hurt me more than remind me what I was like growing up. I have never moved past it. In my head I will always be the stubborn, selfish, strong-willed, attention seeking brat.
And that’s what it boils down to.
I hate my name because it reminds me of the person I used to be.
Do you like your name? Is your name hard to spell or pronounce? Were you a nice child?
