My Name
My daughter changed her names, her first two, when she was 14. She loves the names she chose. She’s not so sure about her surname. It’s my stepfather’s name which I took when I was 19 when my mum married him. I took it because I liked it better than my birth name.
A few weeks ago it popped into my head that my name was Jaguar. This amused me greatly. I’m a fabulously slow, heavy being of sixty years of age. These days I even think slowly. Jaguar. I imagined what people would imagine I was like before they met me. And the incongruity of it when they saw me. This also amused me greatly. I could be tempted…
It pleased me to know there was a jaguar deep inside me.
I’m so locked in that I wouldn’t change my names until my mum has died. I find that sad. I could do it and not tell her. Like I don’t bother to tell her much at all. Jaguar Star is today’s name. I shall continue to play. I don’t want a name from someone else. I didn’t change my name when I married. I want my very own name. It’s fun. maybe I am Birch…
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