How Many Names Does One Woman Need?

My name was supposed to be Diana Lynn. It was the top contender in the girl column when my folks were selecting names for their first baby. The only trouble was, after having three boys they’d pretty much given up on the idea of a girl by the time they had me.

Which is how I came to be Susan Marie. It was the name M’ma’s hospital roommate had chosen for her daughter and, flabbergasted to have given birth to a kid with two X chromosomes, my mother thought it would work nicely for hers as well. (And if you don’t think I haven’t given her a rash about that over the years . . . !) My father preferred Suzanna and I have no idea if they flipped a coin or if Mom was simply the one to fill out the birth certificate, but he lost that argument. So what’s a guy to do?

Well, in Daddy’s case he occasionally called me Suzanna anyway. He also called me Susimocashiwacki. (Don’t ask) And just to confuse things Mom sometimes called me SuSuMaria. (and still does to this day)

The name I’ve mostly been known by, and the one that feels more mine than any other, is Susie, which of course, came with it’s own variations. (SusieQ, Susie Cream Cheese) But when I was twelve or so, I decided it was simply too, too babyish for almost-teenager me and insisted on being called Su. Yep, that’s the correct spelling. I dropped the E because it struck me as being so much more sophisticated without it. The only trouble is, I never truly felt like a Sue, E deleted or not. It didn’t help that my oldest brother married a woman of the same name when I was fifteen and we promptly became “big” Sue and “little” Sue.

When I was around nineteen/twenty years old I finally heeded the call of my comfort level and reverted to Susie. Except for a few people who first knew me during the Su Dynasty (and my mother and middle brother, who often still call me that because I made such a production of it back in the day that it became indelibly etched in their minds) Sue’s a name that’s pretty much gone the way of the buffalo hunter for me.

Professionally, of course, I’m Susan, and as I grow older that's how I tend to introduce myself as well, since--face it-- it's a more mature name for an, ahem, maturing woman. But you can always tell the people who know me best.

They’re the ones who call me Susie because, childish or not, that’s who I am.

So, how about you? How many names have you been called in your lifetime? And is there one that fits more comfortably than all the rest?