By any other name…

I had a very pleasant conversation yesterday with a woman also named Meg.

She started her life as Marguerite and I started mine as “Margaret”.  We both ended up with “Meg” after a series of names that didn’t quite fit.  Mine was “Margie” – with a soft ‘g’.  It was delicate, and ladylike.  And I had that name for more than 25 years.  But I grew tired of people making faint attempts to pronounce it and landing on “Maggie” or “Margie” (with a hard ‘g’).  Like a hair-netted matron being addressed by a butcher, or a sassy secretary with a swift comeback.

I never wanted to be a “Margaret”, although I didn’t mind “Peggy”.  If I had a choice of a name it would be something sophisticated and “French”, I figured. I wish I’d known “Marguerite” was possible back then.  It was, after all, French and I could be called “Daisy”. But I didn’t.  I’d been given “Margaret” and of all the possible “Margaret” names, “Meg” was my favorite.

“Life will be perfect,” I thought,”if I just start telling people to call me “Meg””.  After all, my sisters did already.

And life was good for a while.  Giving my name on telephone calls was much simpler — no more “Maggie?”   Just three little letters — “M E G”. My email address was shorter; my cousins, aunts and other family members jumped on board and I was newly christened “Meg”. As in, “is this “Meg”? when I answered the phone.   “Meg” was preppy and smart and bestfriend material.  “Meg” was competent and the one to turn to in an emergency.

And then.. disaster struck.  “Megan” became a popular girl’s name.  So, now I was sporty – a cheerleader; the head of the debate team.  Unctuous.

And, who knew — Meg is presumed to be the nickname for “MEGAN”. But, if that’s the case, why are you calling me “Megan”

Now what’ll I do?

Time to evaluate my options:

Ignore anyone calling me Megan.

Ask people to call me by my pen name “CC DeLuc”.

Answer to anything.

Move to France and become “Daisy”.