Take it to the Grave

O-l-i-v-i-a. Six simple letters. Four painless syllables.

I have come to realize how attached I am to my name. But what’s in a name? And how can a name mean so much? My name reflects the days, weeks, and even months my parents took to come up with the perfect name for their second-born daughter. I know this because I watched as my mom and dad flipped through pages and pages of baby name books, looking for fitting names for my two younger sisters. Can you believe that there are actually books and websites dedicated to names? And plenty of them to say the least!

It’s been said that a person’s name is the most important word in the world to that person. My name is particularly special to me. When I was younger, I absolutely hated my name. Now, I absolutely hate that other people have my name. 74,894 people in the United States have the name “Olivia.” Let’s face it—your name is everywhere. When you’re born, your name is put on your birth certificate and when you die, your name is put on your tombstone. From family esteem to unique spelling, names give us a sense of identity and self. It is something that we can all truly call our own.

Dierks Bentley touches down on the importance of names in his song My Last Name:

“Grandpa took it off to Europe, to fight the Germans in the war,
It came back to some dog tags, nobody wears no more,
It’s written on a headstone, in the field where he was slain,
It’s my last name.
Daddy always told me, far back as I recall,
Son you’re part of something, you represent us all,
So keep it how you got it, as solid as it came,
It’s my last name.”

So, would Oprah be the renowned talk show host she is today if her name was Gertrude?