Especially about very personal things … crazy hard for a lot of people (including me.) But, I’ve seen my counselor for many years. Even when I didn’t feel like it was helping, it helped a little by making me feel like at least I was doing SOMETHING. It’s very helpful to get the perspective of someone outside the immediate situation. And explaining details about your life and experiences and feelings helps you solidify and understand yourself more. And it gets you out of the house at least once a week.
I didn’t know his name. But he knew mine. It was written in clear, bold letters on the hard, plastic nametag that adorned my green apron.
He knew my name, but he wanted to change it.
“Isn’t Emerald a boy’s name?” he asked.
I was used to strange reactions to my rare and somewhat unusual name, so I laughed. I didn’t choose my name, but I’ve learned to love it.
“No,” I replied, with a puzzled grin, only a little uncomfortably. Did he think I was a boy? My uniform was standardized regardless of gender, and my visor concealed most of my long hair, but I didn’t think I looked like a boy. Did I? My confusion bubbled up exponentially. Why would he ask that? What an odd thing to ask. I’m a girl. My name is Emerald. Emerald is a girl’s name.
I pushed aside my uneasiness and continued to assist him with a friendly smile.
I thought that was the end of it, but then he came to his unpleasant conclusion.
He told me he would call me “Emmy” instead. He didn’t ask. He told.
“No,” I replied, still polite, but somewhat taken aback. Only those select few people very close to me called me by a nickname. To hear those private syllables directed to me by a complete stranger was strange and jarring. It felt wrong. I was confused. I felt that my personal rights had been infringed upon. Surely he understood that a nickname is a sign of familiarity, of intimacy. I had never even seen this man before and he expected to be allowed to bastardize my name? To reduce and minimize it, and therefore me, to fit his own personal inclination. He didn’t have that right, did he?
Brashly, he nodded. “I’m going to call you Emmy,” he reiterated, regardless of my gentle protestation.
Had he not heard me? I had said no. I didn’t want him to call me Emmy. He was old, maybe he had bad hearing? I stayed firm.
“I would really prefer you didn’t. My name is Emerald.” I was still smiling, albeit more hesitantly, but inside I felt violated. Customer service policy as well as common courtesy required that I treat this man with respect and kindness, so I did. He followed no rules, written or socially implied. No one required that he treat me with the same respect and kindness.
The truth was that it should have been my decision. It is my decision. He was rude and he was wrong to insist on calling me a name that I didn’t feel comfortable with. I could have insisted on calling him a name he wasn’t comfortable with. Inconsiderate jerk, maybe? Or stupidhead mcfartface? How would he have felt then? Instead, I told him, I didn’t ask him, again not to call me Emmy, finished helping him, and he complained about me to my manager. He complained because I wasn’t okay with him disregarding my feelings and making me uncomfortable.
I didn’t know his name. But I knew him. And I know I will meet him again in some other incarnation. But I also know that I was right. I am right. It isn’t okay for anyone to call you a name you are not comfortable with. And some things are more important than following a grocery store code of conduct.
Music can be a great source of comfort and inspiration when you’re feeling down.
Today’s song is: “Not Perfect” by Tim Minchin.
Listen to the song here:
Lyrics:
“This is my earth
And I live in it
It’s one third dirt and two thirds water
And it rotates and revolves through space
At rather an impressive pace
And never even messes up my hair.
And here’s the really weird thing
The force created by its spin
Is the force that stops the chaos flooding in.
This is my earth and it’s fine.
It’s where I spend the vast majority of my time.
It’s not perfect, but it’s mine.
It’s not perfect…
This is my country
And I live in it.
It’s pretty big and nice to walk on.
And the bloke who runs my country
Has built a demagoguery
And taught us to be fearful and boring.
And the weirdest thing is that he is
Conservative of politics
But really rather radical of eyebrows.
This is my country and it’s fine.
It’s where I spend the vast majority of my time.
It’s not perfect, but it’s mine.
It’s not perfect…
This is my house
And I live in it
It’s made of cracks and photographs.
We rent off a guy, who bought it from a guy,
Who bought it from a guy, whose granddad left it to him.
And the weirdest thing is that this house
Has locks to keep the baddies out
But they’re mostly used to lock ourselves in.
This is my house and it’s fine.
It’s where I spend the vast majority of my time.
It’s not perfect, but it’s mine.
It’s not perfect, but it’s mine.
This is my body
And I live in it.
It’s thirty-one and six months old.
It’s changed a lot since it was new.
It’s done stuff it wasn’t built to do.
I often try to fill it up with wine.
And the weirdest thing about it is
I spend so much time hating it
But it never says a bad word about me.
This is my body and it’s fine.
It’s where I spend the vast majority of my time.
It’s not perfect, but it’s mine.
It’s not perfect…
This is my brain
And I live in it.
It’s made of love and bad song lyrics.
It’s tucked away behind my eyes
Where all my screwed up thoughts can hide
‘Cause god forbid I hurt somebody.
And the weirdest thing about a mind
Is that every answer that you find
Is the basis for a brand new cliche.
This is my brain and it’s fine.
It’s where I spend the vast majority of my time.
It’s not perfect, but it’s mine.
It’s not perfect, but it’s mine.
It’s not perfect, not quite sure I worked out how to work it.
It’s not perfect, but it’s mine.”
Why this song’s so cool: Tim Minchin is so weird. He primarily does comedy, but this song, while still pretty funny it it’s own, subtle way, is actually pretty deep and inspirational.
Why this song’s helpful: Nothing is perfect, but we’re lucky to have what we have.
I don’t consider myself fancy. Some people may see me as extravagant or expensive. I can appear that way, but more often I reside in nature, ordinary and free. My growth is boundless and I can surprise you anywhere and everywhere, if you let me. Occasionally, I feel weird, unusual, or out of place, but I deeply relish my time spent with those close to me. We radiate courage, we soothe and console and we work together to strengthen one another and expand out horizons. I can lose myself with others, but I am strong when I’m alone. I am natural and abundant and delight in supporting those around me. I can help you be at peace, or I can motivate and inspire you. I bring depth to the world and richness to the trees. I can be deep and comforting or light and carefree. How I choose to present myself depends on your unique perspective. Sometimes I fall into dark moods – the shadows and gloom can overwhelm me into obscurity. But then the light might shine differently and reveal a glimmer of hope and the despair is diminished. The despair is diminished, but I am not. I remain steadfast and brave. I am special, but I am part of something bigger. I don’t tend to be noticed, but I am beautiful in my own way. You would miss me if I was gone. I am emerald green, and I know how to both stand out and blend in, because I am versatile and confident, and I recognize and understand that we all contribute to one another’s individual beauty. When you look for me, I’ll be there. I’ll always be there for you.
