What's in a name?

I’m often asked if Sassy is my real name and that got me thinking about how I came by it.

When my Mother was going in to labour for the first time the nurse asked her “Do you know what you’re going to call it?” and my mother answered “Paul Jared if it’s a boy and Tiffany Sarah if it’s a girl”. The nurse responded with “Really, well let’s hope for a boy then”.

Thankfully my brother did come first. However, when my Mother fell pregnant with me the name Tiffany Sarah was still on the table until one of my Father’s colleagues brought something startling to his attention. At this point I should mention that my Father was always called Willy by his workmates due to our surname. I suspect the conversation went something like this.

Workmate “So Willy, you still thinking of calling it Tiffany if it’s a girl this time?”

Dad “Yes”

Workmate “You do realise she’ll go through life being called Fanny Willy don’t you?”

Dad “Oh crap”

I don’t know who that workmate was but I think I love him a little bit. Tiffany was officially dropped. Bizarrely enough, my Step-Father has called me Fanny from the day we first met. I have no idea why. A number of my own workmates also called me Willy until I married. One still does. Seems I was always destined to be Fanny Willy.

Had I been a boy I was going to be called Ringo. With a Father called John, a Mother called George (yes it’s short for something) and a brother called Paul it seemed rather fitting. X chromosomes I bloody love you.

When I finally popped out they named me Sarah Louise Grant. Grant being the second middle name all of the male members of my family have. My birth certificate says something different, however, and my Mother always wished she hadn’t left it up to my Father to register my birth.

Names are funny things. How many of you like the name you were given or even think about it at all?

My best friend Lulu hated her name and for as long as I have known her has only ever used her middle name. I’m afraid that I can’t tell you her first name because she’d kill me. Even her own Mother calls her by her middle name which, as chance would have it, we both share. She was Louise when I met her but as soon as we became friends she became Lulu to me.

One of my oldest friends grew up being called Mumfy. I think it was because her younger sister Tori couldn’t say Samantha. I’ve always thought it a lovely, affectionate name but she absolutely hates it now. Call her Mumfy at your peril.

Likewise, I have another cousin who will always be Suzie to me but she now refers to herself as Susan and, it seems, so should I. Susan is not a name I attribute to her so I find it very hard not to call her Suzie.

You see, in my world, most people have different names to the ones they were given. If I take a look at my phonebook it’s full of nicknames. For example:

Ross – aka Big Man

Jo – aka Joey Big Pants

Vanessa – aka Lady Vee

Dave – aka Woolly

Sean – aka Bongo

I know two Julies both with surnames beginning with W. One is Joolz and the other is Jelly-Tot.

Chances are, if you’re in my phonebook you’re not in it with your real name.

So, back to me. To be honest I answer to a lot of different names. To my family I’m Sarah, except for my Step-Father. At work I answer to Sarah, Sassy, Willy, Smiffy, Limpy. At home I answer to some very sweet pet names and also E.R. It’s short for “come here and have a look at this”

As to how I became Sassy, well I credit my friend Laura for that. She first started calling me it many, many, many years ago and it’s kind of stuck. Pretty much all of my friends now call me Sassy. It’s a name I struggled with at first but it’s grown on me.

In formal settings and when meeting people for the first time, I will pretty much always call myself Sarah.

Here’s a tip. If we meet, should I introduce myself to you as Sassy then it’s a given that I’m considering you friend potential.

As for you, well you may refer to me in what ever way you choose. I’ll answer to pretty much anything.