Technically it's an old name, but with a new face. Most people don't know that the name they've been calling me for the past 15 years is indeed not my real name. My name does not start with an "L", but with an "E".
For years I've kept my real name hidden to myself, sharing it only with those I feel I can trust. My name has often been one to bring up unpleasant memories. Its caused quite the grief growing up, as those I've shared it with - with the condition that they never call me by it or tell another soul - have done the opposite of what I had earnestly asked. To them it was entertaining and amusing to call me by it, looking for a response from me. And by golly, they got it. What may have seemed over-reactive and silly to them (and perhaps there was a little of that) felt hurtful and disrespectful to me. It added to the pile of feeling worthless and voiceless. But the unpleasant memories it brings up goes much further and deeper than those incidents. You see, my name "changed" at the age of 7. The same age as my trauma and sexual abuse. I think in my little girl mind I wanted a way to escape being the girl that all of that had happened to - the sexual abuse, the teasing, the disresect. I wanted to bury her; be someone else. Also, NOBODY could pronounce my name right. I really feel like it's not that difficult. And so, I took on a new name, and I left my old one behind. I've realized during these last few months of counseling (which I'm happy to say that I'm now done with! ^.^) that when I hear my real name, I see a scared, voiceless, helpless little girl. One with all sorts of hurts and fears and who is alone. I've started digging into the names of God again and as I look at the Old Testament (and the New Testament, for that matter) I'm reminded of how important names are. God changed Abram and Sarai's names to Abraham and Sarah; He changed Jacob's name to Israel; Saul's name to Paul, etc. And He did so for a purpose. Beyond the importance of peoples' names, there is so much richness and importance in God's names as well. There are a ton for a reason. In the book I'm reading the question is asked, "Why do you think God revealed His name [El Shadday] when speaking of the covenant He made with Abraham and his descendants?" Personally, I think it's because it shows who He is; it gives a little insight into His character. Possibly my favorite name of God is El Roi - the God who sees me. I'm sure if you've read any of my blog posts (as scarce as they've been) over the past few months you can understand why I love this name of His so much. It's one that invokes deep comfort and reassurance, as when I say it, the image and feeling of Him wrapping His arms around me, holding me tightly, appears. It's a reminder that He sees all of the intricate things that go on in my life; all of the deep hurts and sorrows, the things that strike the most sensitive nerves, and all of my thoughts and feelings. He sees them because He's always there. Another one I love is El Elyon, but I'll let you look that one up for yourself if you so choose. I started thinking of the importance of names and how that importance has changed and decreased more and more over the years. But that importance has not disappeared completely. I happen to love finding out what peoples' names mean. Always have. I may or may not have an app on my phone that gives you the meaning, origin, and popularity of a persons name. And I may or may not go through it from time to time, looking up the names of people I know, seeing if there's any truth in the description of their name. As I thought about names and their meanings, I thought back to the meaning of my real name. It means dedicated to God. I feel like that's appropriate. What I think I love most is what my middle name means. Like my first name, my middle name is one that evokes less than pleasant feelings and memories. It, however, means warrior/defender. I like that. A warrior who is dedicated to God. It feels accurate as I look back on these past years, remembering all that has happened and all that I've been through. My last name means hobo in German. Throughout the healing process of my abuse, BW has been a wonderful source of support and encouragement. One of the ways he's done this is by helping me establish a positive association with my real name, rather than the negative one that I've been carrying around. After doing so in a conversation we had last night, I mentioned what I associated with my real name (that scared, voiceless, helpless little girl). He told me that's not who he saw. I asked him what he saw, and he told me. I believe it was another moment of healing for me. The realization that that scared, voiceless, helpless little girl has been healed. She's all grown up now. That little girl is now a young woman with depth, strength, fire, and empathy. That's who I'm choosing to see when I hear my name. Though I still prefer not to be called by it, I don't feel like I have to hide it anymore. Elisa My name is Elisa. (Ee-liss-uh)
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Well, our interwebs have been at war with us for the past few days, so I have to post my Mother's Day post today. Which is fine, seeing as we really should be celebrating our mother's EVERY day. As I was sitting in church Sunday morning, I kept wondering how I could possibly convey with words who my mum is and how much she means to me. I closed my eyes during a time of worship, distracted by my thoughts, when this image came to mind, clear as day : hats. Lots of hats. The imagery started out as sketches, like you would find in an old children's storybook. It then progressed to felt hats (we grew up playing with felt dolls, and there were many, many felt hats to choose from for said dolls). Now, my mum is not a hat person. I don't think I've ever seen her wear a hat in my 22 years - aside from my parents' vow renewals and a photoshoot mum did with us girls all dressed up in wedding dresses (mum got married in the 80's and her veil was attached to a big, floppy, lacey white hat. Gotta love the 80's). But apart from that and a graduation cap, I've yet to see her wear any sort of head apparel. However, at the risk of sounding cliche, she has many hats in her closet. Do you ever stop and think about what your mum does? Like, ALL that she does? It's different for each of us, and sadly, some of us don't have good memories of our moms - or any memories at all. I've been fortunate enough to experience neither, and today I want to celebrate my mommy by giving you a little glimpse into her closet : Mother Daughter Sister Wife Cousin Niece Aunt Sister-in-Law Friend Pastor Teacher Counselor Servant Mediator Cook Farmer Researcher Janitor Nanny Hostess Partner Therapist Accountant Chauffer Artist And so much more . . . And most of those things she does without being paid to do. I am so grateful for my mama and everything she does. The older I get and the more I experience, the more I admire, respect, and appreciate my mum. She's not perfect, and she'll be the first to tell you that, but she's an incredible woman who I wish you could all know as I do. Here's to you, mum. Thank you for everything. As a special gift, my sister and I decided to recreate some of our childhood moments for our mama. These are for you, mum! Mother's Day is a day that is both light and heavy; a day of both celebration and grief. Mother's Day is a day to celebrate mother's and all they do. But it's also a day of deep grief for many. For those who have lost their mother's; those who had no mother; those who had an abusive or abandoning mother; and those who lost their children that made them mother's. In our celebration let us not forget those who are hurting deeply. |
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