You know how sometimes you just look at someone and think, “Yeah. Your name definitely fits you”?
Is it because you can see the name their parents gave them written on their face? Is there something about the lines and dips in their facial features that screams “Sara” or “Cedric”? Or maybe it’s the way they talk or present themselves to everyone around them, a banner of sorts waving their names above them.
But what about the names that we give the people we care about? What makes us call someone else “baby”? Or “kitten”? Or the over-used “bae”? And why, when we’re called these things, do we accept them — own them?
What makes us reject the names like “bitch” or “snob”? Who said that we can’t own these names as well? Why must we say that these are unacceptable but willingly accept something like “babe”?
We’ve decided that the names that we give others or the ones that we receive are important. Whether we like it or not, good or bad, they define us and the people around us. They create our personas, sometimes against our wills, and give us an identity for others to subscribe to.
So what’s in a name? Because a rose by any other name would smell as sweet, but we’ve already decided that a rose is perfection, and we wouldn’t view it the same by calling it a dandelion.