Hence, an American name was born, translated closely to the meaning of my Vietnamese name. It took time to get used hearing myself being called differently, but this name was only used by passerby and acquaintances that I might only met once or twice. Teachers and others tried their best to call me by my given name.
Once I had a job, another American name was born. I didn't like my translated name that much, so I came up with a different one to use with my co-workers. My identity became somewhat unimportant to me. I changed it whenever I was bored with the current one. New area, new name, and so forth! My official name seemed to only exist on paper.
I didn't care much on who called me what! If I recognized the name then I responded, but if not it was at no concerned to me. High school was over, and I was out in the real world. My identity was what I wanted at the moment. I was called Star, Moon, Flower, Wind, etc. and I was fine with them all.
Then marriage came, and I was confined to T's mom, H's mom, and J's mom. Otherwise, I was known as Mrs. R. I lost a sense of who I was, or who I really am. My given name was never heard often unless it was from my mom and siblings. I knew I was struggle trying to figure out who I was. Me, for myself, and not so many different strings attached to who I am.
Needless to say, when my identity was compromised, by my own fault, or by incidents, I was lost in the jungle of names. I couldn't identify my own identity, sadly. I was everybody else, but not me. I had too many shoes to fill in, too many roles to fulfill, and along the way, I adopted whatever identity that fitted me for the moment. I am now comfortable with the person that I am.
Thanks for READING!
(Listed in Mixed Memories Series)