In My World, I'm Normal

“There’s nothing more addictive or incredible in life than reinventing yourself and allowing yourself to be different every day.” —Thalia

“People who cannot invent and reinvent themselves must be content with borrowed postures, secondhand ideas, fitting in instead of standing out.” —Warren Bennis

When I was 12 years old like many that age, I didn’t like myself a whole lot.  I wasn’t pretty enough, or popular enough or smart enough.  I spent my evenings in my room swooning over Bobby Sherman and David Cassidy.  The person I truly wished to be was my friend Carolyn.  Carolyn had beautiful dark brown hair in a page boy cut, and was tall and slender.  She already had breasts!  She attracted the attention of the seventh grade boys.  But most importantly Carolyn had what I severely lacked, poise and confidence.  She was an only child where I was number three of four, so she had A LOT - a lot of beautiful clothes, a lot of attention from her parents, a lot of boyfriends, a lot of life experiences.  And at twelve, even though Carolyn was one of my best friends, I was envious.  So, one day I told my Mom that I didn’t want to be called Laura anymore.  I wanted everyone in the family to call me Carolyn.  My Mom, being the wise woman that she was, didn’t argue with a 12 year old girl but simply said “OK”, and called me Carolyn from then on.  The rest of the family was not so accommodating but it didn’t matter because in my fantasy I was still Carolyn.  This lasted for a few months but eventually I went back to being just plain Laura who was still not pretty enough, popular enough or smart enough.  

Many years later in my young adulthood I was at work interviewing and laughing with one of my patients, an older woman who was sassy and fun.  Her name was Tula.  I loved that name!  I thought it sounded like a fun name, someone who would be fun to have as a friend.  It was at a time in my life when you boys were in school and my life was taken up with the minutiae of family life — chores, errands, homework.  I didn’t have a whole lot of time for fun and adventure.  I decided to take on that name.  I told all of the other nurses and the physicians for whom I worked that I would no longer answer to Laura.  That my name was going to be Tula from then on.  I changed my name tag to Tula Alexander and if anyone ever called me Laura I simply did not answer.   The other nurses thought this was weird but whatever, like Pop, they knew I was a little crazy.  Since I didn’t answer to Laura they got used to calling me Tula.   The doctors didn’t know what to make of me, didn’t feel comfortable calling me Tula, I wouldn’t answer to Laura so they didn’t call me anything.  Maybe an occasional “Hey You” or “Nurse” but they just couldn’t bring themselves to call me Tula.  One day one of Pop’s co-workers, Mike, came to our ambulatory surgery center for a procedure.  When I interviewed him pre-operatively I introduced myself as Tula.  I had never met him before but we got to talking and that was when we realized that he worked with Pop.  Well, Mike went back to work and was talking to a mutual friend of his and Pop and he told this friend that he had met Jon’s wife, Tula.  The friend said Jon’s wife’s name wasn’t Tula, it was Laura.  Mike said, no, he was sure I had said Jon was my husband.  They laughed about it but a few days later Mike asked Jon what his wife’s name was.  They got to talking about Laura/Tula, Tula/Laura and luckily I had told Pop the story of how I had changed my name at work.  So he had to explain to this man how his wife every once in awhile would change her name and yes, his wife Laura/Tula was just a little bit crazy. 

Several years later, I went on a mission trip to China.  I was to help with surgeries that we were going to do for children with cleft lip and palate.  I had never been on such a trip before and looked forward to the adventure.  But I was also very anxious about being a half a world away from my husband and four boys and being a half a world away from home with about 40 people whom I had never met and didn’t know.  In fact, I was so anxious, that about two days before the trip I found myself in tears and nearly called the man in charge to tell him I couldn’t go.  

With the help of your Pop, I pulled myself together and we headed to the airport.  I was to meet up with a group of people who were also leaving from the San Francisco area.  Now, I have no idea why but as I approached the group, I extended my hand and said “Hi, my name is Rosie.”  Pop just nodded and played along.  Pop by now was well aware that I was a little bit crazy and very little that I did surprised him.  He has gotten very used to just going with the flow.  For the next ten days I was known to this group as Rosie.  Many times I found myself not answering when they called my name because I had forgotten that my name was Rosie.  

I have thought a lot about these three different situations.  When I look back on them it seems kind of silly that I changed my name.  But then I think maybe, just maybe, every once in awhile we all need to be someone else.  Perhaps in my anxiety about China I couldn’t go as myself, I needed to go as someone else, someone who I pictured as being more courageous than myself, someone who had a fun name and people would like.  Maybe when we don’t like who we are right then, or just want to let the crazy side of ourselves show, maybe we need to take on another personality even for a short time to get through.  And what’s wrong with that?   Trying on different personalities in an effort to discover my true self has helped me become a woman wise to my boundaries, my faults, my strengths and has helped me not take myself so seriously.   It has given me a brief respite from the sometimes harsh and challenging times in life and has given me a way to tap into the more courageous and adventurous me.  Or, maybe as Pop believes,  I’m just a little bit crazy.