What's in a Name?

Some people, who've only known me as an adult (my husband included), may not believe this, but most of my life I was painfully shy. Emphasis on the painful.
I still have my report cards from elementary school. Almost without exception, they describe me as a "shy, quiet little girl". Most people outgrow it. Mine lasted throughout highschool and into college. Occasionally, even now, when I'm in a group setting or a classroom setting, I can still feel rare moments when I am seized by terror. It's like I'm a kid again.
I think I would have been shy even if my Dad hadn't died when I was young. I was the second child, and as such, I was more introverted than my sister. She did the talking for the both of us.
Also, when I was young, there was a long period of time when I didn't like that I was Finnish (I'm proud of it now,though). I wanted to be like everyone else. I wanted to have a normal name that people could pronounce. (Pia is not my real name). Even now, that name (my old one) brings with it so many bad memories, I almost feel angry when someone brings it up as a joke. Don't even ask what it is.
Whenever we had a substitute teacher, roll call would unfold the same way. Because my last name ended in "A", I was first on the list. The teacher would look down at the list, then say, "If I mispronounce any of your names, please correct me." They would try to say it, get it horribly wrong, it would call unwanted attention to me, and I would be embarassed. Then the whole class, who had been with me since kindergarten, would say my name in unison. I was three shades of red. As the years went on, they wouldn't even wait for the teacher to attempt it, they'd just shout it out. Did I mention how much I hated that name?
I asked my Mom, "Did you actually like that name when you chose it?" I was sure it was a curse. I never felt like that name matched who I was. I suppose if I would have grown up in Finland where I was born, it would've been a common name and I wouldn't have had these issues. But here, it was impossible.
Added to that, it ended in the letter "o". In a town with many other immigrants, like Italians who end a name in "a" if it's female (Maria), and "o" if it's male (Mario), people assumed I was a boy. For a twelve year old, flat-chested girl with short hair, and no make-up, it was not very self-affirming. I once held the door open for a little old lady. She said, "Thanks, Sonny." That was the third such episode that same day. It was not a good day to be me. Did I mention how much I hated that name?
I don't know if even now I can analyze all the reasons for my shyness. But it was a bad time. A very bad time. I seem to be scarred for life.
I can't tell you how happy I was to have two daughters who were so well adjusted and out-going. They never struggled with shyness the way I did. I even gave them names that could be pronounced in Finnish and English. I didn't want that to be a stumbling block for them. Did I say how much I hated that name?
When I was growing up, most families were intact. I was from a broken family. I'm sure that was a factor. After my Dad died, my Mom became an alcoholic (but that's another story), and I'm sure that played a part. My sister an I were alone alot because my Mom worked odd hours in a restaurant. We also had neighbours (bad boys) who used to peer in through our windows regularly. I was very self-conscious and always thought someone was watching me (and they usually were).
Wow, I should be more messed up than I am!
I wish I would have outgrown it sooner. My chance to make a clean break came when I turned 20 and moved to Toronto. I decided I would not use that old name at all. I would be Pia. I was already known by that name since I was 12 or 13, when my baby cousin named me because she couldn't pronounce my real name. Do you need any more proof that it's a horrible name?
I have been Pia ever since. It's on all of my documents, Passport, SIN card, etc. I haven't officially changed it, although I plan to. My Mom's okay with it.
I associate that old name with a mostly painful childhood in a Northern Ontario city; my new name with my new life in Toronto.
So name your children carefully. It matters more than you may think.