What’s in a Name?

Where did your name come from?

I always hated my name when I was growing up.

Why did my parents have to name me something so borinnnggg?

Why couldn’t they have named me something more exciting, like Cleopatra? Or Leah? But no, instead, I had to share my name with multiple cousins.

Larisa.

So unremarkable. I refused to be called by that name, so my older sister gave me another name, Loren, and I eagerly accepted it instead. My mom even fell in line and called me Loren during my formative years.

It wasn’t until I had to start using my name legally for work that I truly accepted my name, but I still had to stress to everyone that it was “Larisa with ONE s!” I had no idea who this Larissa character was that everyone tried ascribing to me.

That, in turn, got me the actual moniker of “Larisa With One S.”

“Good morning Larisa With One S!”

“Good morning Debra.”

Anyway, after a while, I stopped fighting it and finally accepted that this was indeed my name and that trying to run away from it was futile. Strangely, whenever I’d read about a character in a story named Larisa (with one s), I’d always like the name and immediately felt drawn to the character.

I also love it when a romantic interest calls me by my name. Why does it feel like a caress?

Oh, I should probably answer this prompt question—where my name actually came from. It just came from lack of creativity and lack of baby naming books in the Soviet Union where I was born. Larisa is a common Slavic name and my parents didn’t have a Larisa yet so they bestowed it upon yours truly upon my birth.