CNF Online Journal 1: “My Name.”

My parents wanted a boy but unfortunately for them, the fastest swimmer was a girl. Angela Reih. Angela from my father’s Michael Angelo. Reih from my mother’s Reihvelle. They called me Andreih growing up. A name I got used to, a name I resented, and a name that I’ve come to accept.

At home, I was Andreih. A name said both in adoring affection and fiery fury. In a mother’s soothing lullaby, and in a father’s vicious scolding. At that point, my only real gripe was that it was hard to spell when I had to sign my Crayola masterpieces but other than that, I didn’t think much of it. A name’s just a name.

It wasn’t until I started school that I realized how odd it was for a girl to bear a boy’s name. I introduced myself as the name my parents called me but it was met with giggles and snickers. I was called a boy and referred to as “he” for the rest of the day. I started going by Angela since then.

Several years of introspection and self-discovery later, I feel that I know myself somewhat well. Well enough to have a solid idea of my identity. I may not be 100% of where I stand with myself but I’m sure accepting the name I’m most comfortable with is a step in the right direction, yes?

So please, call me Andrei.