by its right name.

my great grandmother, effie marie, and me when i was still lauren marie.
(she crocheted that blanket for me, because i am her namesake.)

this snazzy, jazzy lady was a treat. when i was born, i was given her middle name. she didn’t go by effie, her chosen name was petie, after a farm helper she followed around and adored as a child. (or so i believe the story goes.)

when i ask to be called effie, it’s more than a passing fancy. and i feel rude and ungrateful for not personifying the name my parents chose for me, but lauren just does not fit. i’ve felt for my whole life that it meant big shoes to fill. “lauren” should be sophisticated, eloquent, graceful, put together. and while i am many things, i am not that.

effie means “melodious talk”, which if find more fitting. effie is relaxed, fun, more likely to trip over a flat surface… much like me.

where lauren would be a lovely fur coat, effie is your favorite worn out cardigan. and i’d quite rather be comfy than pretty.

and i feel comfy in “effie”. i feel like myself, with no expectations, no standards to meet, just plain ol’ effie. and i like it.

“For a moment she rediscovered the purpose of her life. She was here on earth to grasp the meaning of its wild enchantment, and to call each thing by its right name.”

(p.s. happy fiftieth post!)


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