Identity and Names

A few years ago, I chose the name "Lu" as my signature. There's nothing wrong with my given name, in fact it's very beautiful and I like it very much. It simply isn't a name people write songs about. Not that "Lu" is. But I chose it. I used it as nickname, signed it under my poems or other "literary" works and I've even heard people say it but not to address me, just rolling it around their tongues, to see how it feels. Some of them even said that it sounds good, that they like it. But no one called me that. And that's okay, I guess. Fine by me. Because I don't really mind, not really. Despite the fact that I didn't choose it, I will always answer to my given name. Always.

But a friend called me Lu the other day and it was shocking. No one had ever done that! I was walking -no, fleeing! I was running away from a crowd because I always run away from crowds; I can't breathe when there are too many people around and just how fucked up is that? (Oh, how very poetic!) And I couldn't think straight because their voices created a buzz so unbearable, I thought blood might come out of my ears! I was feeling dizzy, focusing on my feet, to make sure that they were working properly and carrying me out of the building, into the night, into the dark, away from all those people that I found so intimidating! And then I heard it.

I didn't stop though. I thought my ears were playing tricks on me. Nobody EVER says that name, not to me, not to acknowledge me as Lu. So I kept going. And he said it again. And I had to stop. I'm sure he didn't know how much it meant to me, saying that name, calling me by it but the second time I heard it, I wasn't as scared by the crowd anymore. Because I couldn't lose my self inside it, because I had an identity and he made me understand that. (My agoraphobia wasn't magically cured, of course but I'll take what I can get.) When I turned to look at him, he kept talking, as if he hadn't said something important just then. And he hadn't really. He had called me by my name and that's a simple thing, mundane, dull. Except it isn't.

So let me tell you about Lu. She's honest, cruelly honest most of the time and people think she's just being a bitch. But she isn't. She is loving and caring and if you give her time, you will find a true friend in her, even though earning her friendship is not an easy task. Sure, she's dysfunctional in many ways but she has good qualities, maybe less than her flaws, but enough to make up for them. If you don't want to waste your time on her, she will be slightly hurt but she can live with that. Because she has words. Words that float inside her head, all the time and as long as she has that, she doesn't need anything else. Despite her kindness, you shouldn't attempt to cross her. Because she will never forgive you. And words being her superpower, she can devastate you with a sentence, a single sentence that you would have never thought could do much damage but she was never foolish enough to underestimate the power of words. And she writes. It doesn't matter what she writes as long as she does. As long as she never stops.

She will never willingly hug you, never attempt to kiss your cheek and never hold your hand when you need it. But she will always find the right thing to say, even if it takes her a little longer than most people. And you should listen to her advice. She gives great advice which she never follows. Do you know how easy it is for me now, to say "I am Lu"? Just because someone let the name roll around his tongue. Not to see how it sounds, how it feels, how it tastes... Not to mock me with it! But because -or so I think- he saw Lu in me, without me having to explain who she is. Who I am.


(All that drama... And for what? Because you said my name. Thank you!)


Have you ever thought about how much power a name holds? Whenever someone calls you Helen or Sarah or Peter or whatever your name might be, do you stop to wonder who that person is? Because I do. And I find it magnificent! How there can be seven Peters in a room and not one of them is the same as the other, despite their names! They are all Peter but they're not! (Does that make any sense?) And maybe there's a Jim inside a Peter, or a Peter inside a Sarah or a Helen inside a Sarah and no one will ever know! But I hope each one of them knows who they are inside because I've lived without a sense of identity for so many years and I wouldn't wish it on anyone.