Lately, there seems to be a lot of confusion about my name. This really shouldn't surprise me, my name has been the same my entire life and it has confused people of all ages. However, what is surprising to me now, is that people I've known for a very long time, suddenly no longer know my name.
When I was born, my dad called up his mom and asked "How do you spell my daughter's name?" I am named after my great, great grandma. Sorine is the Danish spelling of my name. The e is pronounced as an a so it says "Sorina." And that is where the confusion sets in.
I've always just kind of let my name flow. If people don't say it right, that's okay. If I'm going to become friends with them, I can correct them later on. I've been called Serene, Sore-eye-knee, Sigh-knee, Soar-in, and many other versions of Sorine. If people ask, I'll tell them "It's the Danish spelling." and, usually, they will store that information away somewhere in their minds and from that point on they remember how to spell and pronounce my name, even though they may have to think about it for a while first.
However, it is those moments where the people don't make the connection that are most troubling. For example, I worry that people think I just don't know how to spell my name. Maybe they think I made a type-o once and it stuck. Maybe, and this is stretched, they think I have some weird hiccup that only occurs when I say my name "Sorin....UH!"
There comes a point when I just don't feel like correcting people anymore. Especially if it is someone I've corrected many times. It just becomes awkward and embarrassing for the both of us. Instead, I just let them call me what they can remember and I respond to it. Perhaps this isn't the best way to go about it, but it has worked for the most part.
My first year at school, my entire ward called me Soar-in. After introducing myself over and over again (obviously using the correct pronunciation of my name), I got tired of correcting people. I just dealt with the fact that my ward didn't know me very well. It doesn't bother me.
At the beginning of the summer I went to have a camp fire with a group of people. I knew most of them, but I had never really hung out with any of them enough to consider us great friends. However, those that I had met before had gone to high school with me, had classes with me, and should have known me well enough to know how to pronounce my name. Unless they were one of the few I gave up on correcting. We all loaded into one car and as a boy jumped in next to me, he said "Hey Serene! How are you?" I noticed a few of the others give me a look, like how is she going to handle this? I just answered with a "Good, how are you?" This is the same kid who had called me Sabrina the majority of high school. I just figured it was okay, at lest this way he was saying it how it was read. Later, as we all sat around the fire and there was a lull in conversation, he said "Hey, Serene? Remember when I used to call you Sorine (saying my name correctly)? It's a good thing I figured out your real name, huh?" I wasn't sure what to do, so I just said "Actually, Sorine is my real name." It has become a little joke now and since then he has managed to say my name correctly.
Some of these same people have been coming to a YSA family home evening we have every week. Throughout the summer I've felt myself cringe and seen others cringe as I've heard all the variations of name, wondering how and if I should correct people. A few weeks ago, someone approached me. "So," he said, "is your name Serene or Sorine? I've heard it both ways and whenever I ask people they tell me something different." I realized that maybe I need to start correcting people more. I mean, it doesn't bother me much when someone calls me something else, I'm used to it. But maybe it bothers others to not know my name.
Anyway, the moral of all this is, whatever is easier for you to remember, you can call me that. I will answer to all versions of my name. I won't be offended if you say it wrong or spell it wrong. And I probably won't correct you. So unless you ask, I'm sorry. We'll both have to deal with the awkwardness.
