Humans have names because they don’t know who they are otherwise.

Sydney (n., adj.) “Wide Island: south of the water; from Sidon

In order to disillusion you, my dear readers, I’m not a wide island.  Be that as it may, I’m also not from Sidon nor I am south of the water.

Names are funny things. Some people attach a considerable amount of worth to them and some couldn’t care less about what their name is as long as people call them by it — and I suppose some don’t even care that much.

People often mistake my name for Shelby. In fact, for as long as I can remember if anyone messes up my name, it’s Shelby (although I have gotten a few Cindy’s too, but I’m not counting them because it’s really just a variant of my given name).

I hate the name Shelby.

My apologies to any of my readers who claim the name. If you wish to be”From the manor house/’Willow farm“, be my guest. All the more power to you. Just don’t expect me to join you.

I think my abhorrence of the name was inspired by the hard “b” sound at the end of the word. It doesn’t flow. I’m a poet and writer; if it doesn’t sound pretty, change it or leave it out entirely. My name flows with soft syllables that slide off the tongue with almost an oily composition. Sydney.

If I could pick my name, I’m not 100% sure what it would be.

I mean, I’ve always like Guinevere, but that doesn’t mean that I would want to answer to it.

And then there’s Adalaide.

And I can’t forget Elizabeth.

The irony is not lost upon me that all of the above names mean “queen“.

I suppose I will finish this post with the following request: call me whatever you like, but don’t think that my value begins and ends with the adjective that you choose.

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I wonder if parents name their children with the intention that they will grow into the name. But how many parents pick names simply because they sound nice with the last name? Why are names picked in the first place?

I wonder still what other names my mother contemplated as I kicked within, impatient to get a little bit more wiggle room in this big old world. What other words were the inspiration for the human being that I could become?

And even still, is my future determined by the words that I hear myself called everyday. Brainwashing is simply the repetition of ideas and if everyday, I hear the words (success, failure, white island, beautiful, queen, etc…) repeated, will I learn to see myself in that way?

If it is the case, I’d like to request something other than “white island.”