Do you know the meaning of your name, and why your parents chose it? Do you think it suits you? What about your children’s names?
Photographers, artists, poets: show us IDENTITY.
But in my eyes it means nothing really. As I was called by my nick name since a very young girl, Terry.
When I hear my proper name being used, I think back to when I was in trouble with my Mom. Teresa Jane please come here.
That meant trouble. What did I do wrong this time? Today if I hear my proper name it has to be voiced from a stranger. Someone on the other end of the phone line, verifying who I am. Just like in the military. Name, serial number, age.
My middle name is something I now am not so proud of. I used to be.
I used to think I was special because I was named after a friend of my real mother.
But after making repeated visits to get to know this real woman, given the undeserved title of mother, I am no longer proud.
When I used to hear my Dad calling my name I went running.
Once I started caring for my brother I saw the word hero being slowly erased from the blackboard.
So all in all my name is my own.
Created and formed from many angles.
Below is a photo of me and my Dad.
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