47 years ago on my birthday I was given a gift. It’s the kind of gift you really can’t return. It was my name. My name is odd, different, unusual, strange, and absolutely perfect for me. Now over the years I have heard some pretty strange reactions too said name- bare with me and remember these are comments from other people.
“What was your momma smokin’ when she came up with that?”
“You don’t look black.” (Because I’m not.)
“Shit, girl! Did your parents not like you?”
“You’re shitin’ me, right? That’s not your name. What’s your real name?”
AND MY FAVORITE: When I joined the military and had to fill out my weight in paperwork, I had a SSgt. bring my paperwork over to me and tear it up in my face while screaming…”WE DON’T TAKE FUCKING NICKNAMES IN THE MILITARY!” I handed him my birth certificate and social security card and he handed me a fresh stack of paperwork to redo.
My name is Ticia Rani- now I know just by reading it there is no way you can pronounce it properly. Everyone tries to stick an “r” in there and call me Trisha. Um…no. What really pisses me off is when I tell people my name and they get over the initial shock, but say it wrong. I then correct them and they say it wrong again. What that tells me is that YOU DON’T CARE! So, I will say their name wrong over and over to try and drive home the point. In one conversation I referred to the man I was speaking too by 4 different names. “Well, you see, Bill…” “John, I see what you are saying but…” “Okay, Pete! Can I get you another beer?” “Hey, George, did you want to come over sometime for a BBQ?”
He attempted to correct me each time and each time I said, “I know. That’s what I said.” Which is the response I got from him a few times.
My mother gave me very few gifts in life. My name is the only thing of value she bestowed. It has given me permission to step outside the box, to be unique and weird and a tad bit crazy. I love my name!
Now say it with me: TEE-SHA
You can do it boys and girls!