Years later, it is still nagging at me. I hate my name, never thought it suited me, never let go of the name I found when I was eight, even though until recently I'd more or less forgotten where I found it or why I wanted it. But it doesn't go with my middle name, or my surname - which I also hate. It's still bothering me, though. A lot of people around me are setting in motion big change in their lives at the moment, and I'm happy for them, and of course I'm moving soon - oh, that's right, by the way, I'm moving soon, hopefully - and so I suppose my brain is looking for some way of marking it.
I'm not going to change my name; I've gone nearly 25 years - oh, that's right, by the way, I've got a birthday happening soon, but I'm not planning to do anything about it, don't worry - trying everything I could to avoid being laughed at, I'm not about to drop all that now and invite it. But.