In English I don’t know what my name means. I do know that it’s the name of a beach somewhere near the Eastern Shore, a Christian college, and some surfer girl who got her arm bitten off by a shark. In Hebrew it means “ house of figs,” great. And it also has a biblical reference to the name of the village near Jerusalem where Jesus did something important or whatever. All that really doesn’t describe me at all. It’s a name of chaos and mixed emotions. Confusion and pride. Forwardness and insecurity. It’s the sound of my mother and sister laughing at my jokes. Domestic, comforting and cozy.

I wasn’t named after anyone in my family. Not my first name anyways. I was named after an adventure my mother and father had while abroad. A different culture and atmosphere to influence their decision in choosing a name for their new child.

I was thought to be a boy at first but SURPRISE! It’s a girl! My mom got to name me because my dad gave my sister her name. Playing popcorn with the name game I guess. My mom was going to name me Blaine if I was a boy; she was stuck on the whole “B” thing I suppose.

At school they say my name sounds like a white girls’ name. I can’t really blame them seeing as I am half “white girl” but I don’t like being categorized like that. I can’t stand it actually. People here are stupid though cause I can’t tell you how many times I get called Brittney, Bethany-ea, etc, etc. What in the sam hill is wrong with them?! I just ignore them and don’t answer those people who can’t pronounce something so simple.

I’m glad my mom decided to name me Bethany instead of something else. I don’t think I’d like to be called anything else. It fits me even if the name is catching on in popularity nowadays. It doesn’t matter to me because I’ll always be my family and friends’ one and only Bethany Ann, Beth Annie, B-Rad, B-Nanny, Boobert and that’s just fine with me.