Christen Me With Regret

October 31, 2010
By Anonymous

I hate my name
My first name
The one my father named me

That name tastes like plastic
The Barbies he bought to keep me quiet
The video-games to keep me occupied
The bowls of cereal when he didn't want to make dinner

That name feels like fear
The crack of his belt when I did something wrong
His huge hands that grasped my arms like steel
His voice that changed from contentment to anger to quickly

That name sounds like rejection
"I can't keep the kid this weekend."
"I'm moving soon; don't bring her over anymore."
The sound of his truck driving away

I hate that name
My first name
The name my father gave me

I hate my name
My middle name
The one my mother named me

That name sounds like pressure
Being pushed into a classroom all alone
Being commanded to talk to people I don't know
Being told to play my violin even though I'm afraid of an audience

That name brings thoughts of waiting
Sitting on the steps of the school, hoping to be picked up soon
Standing at the window at night, praying she comes home safe
"It won't be long; She'll be back soon."

That name comes with rebukes
"Control yourself! Can't you ever stop eating?"
"Get your lazy self up and do something useful."
"I'm your mother; you do as I say."

I hate those names
The ones I'm called
The names my parents gave me

I'd cast them off if I had the power
I'd change it and become someone else
But at the same time, I couldn't let it go
It's the name my parents gave me

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