What's in a name?

Had an interesting conversation with my coworkers today, where I came to find out several of them aren't using their first—in one case, neither birth—name. Once again this got me to thinking about using my middle name, either unofficially or even legally. If I'm being completely honest, I've never really liked my first name my whole life, but only recently have I given serious consideration to changing it. Doing this is a monumental hassle and undertaking, yet here it is back on my radar. It all begs the rather poignant question as to why?

To my mind, a name shouldn't hold such weight that I—clearly others, too—would be willing to go to such lengths to be free of it. It's an identification, sure, but beyond that seemingly no different than any other word; just another string of consonants and vowels. Our identity ultimately comes from who we are as individuals, and everything in our lives that shapes us as a person. Things like our core values, interests, beliefs, hobbies, and goals. Some people even base their identity around their careers—quite a precarious and slippery slope, albeit understandable in this day and age. We may be addressed by others through our given name, but we live through our physical, mental, and emotional personas. Despite all this, I still feel disappointment in mine.

No doubt, growing up with a first name that's a phallic euphemism sadly made me the butt dick end of many a joke. Adding insult to injury was my being smart and, at the time, socially-awkward throughout elementary and secondary school. Oftentimes this meant even when I wasn't being compared to an appendage, I would be targeted through deliberate over-pronunciation and elongation of the vowels in my name. And all this because I was shy and intelligent. Then there came “Petey”… don't get me started. Hindsight mercifully affords me the opportunity to laugh this off for the most part, but it was traumatic nevertheless.

Honestly, the bigger hang up for me is how my name audibly sounds even when pronounced normally—dare I say weak, almost. Perhaps it's the softer consonant it ends with, that essentially trails off when you say it. Pair it with my last name that also has the same audible ending, and the perceived weakness is even greater. Ironic I would feel this way given Peter is derived from Petros in Greek, meaning “stone”. Nothing is even remotely weak about that. I also can't help feeling guilty about this entire train of thought, seeing it's the name my parents chose for me, though to be fair my dad (jokingly?) wanted to call me Hector (oh look, another trailing ‘r’). No idea why he would've picked that, but my mom was not amused. David was the other name they were debating, a name I would've admittedly been happier with.

My middle name, Ian, is much stronger sounding to my mind and ears. Even more appealing is the Irish variation and spelling of it, Eoin, a heritage I'm immensely proud and fond of. I have a strong connection with my Irish roots, and visually am the spitting image of my paternal (full Irish) grandfather, who I sadly never had the chance to meet. If I ever decide to pull the trigger and legally change my name, I'd use my father and grandfather's first names for my middle ones, no hesitation.

Circling back, all of this still eludes my original query. What's in a name, that we could be so unhappy with the one(s) we're given? Is there tangible merit to how I feel about this, that making such a drastic change for both myself and everyone I know would be worth it? Maybe this comes to the forefront of my mind as I face down the inevitable midlife crisis of turning 50 later this year, and I'm just bored and looking for a change. Or perhaps as I seek to re-establish positive direction, focus, and momentum in my own life, this would be a symbolic new beginning.

So, what's in a name for you?