Growing into my name

"You look like a Chelsea." I always hear that and I never know what it means. Now, with Facebook, I can type in "Chelsea" and see thousands of profile pictures. Many of them look like sorority girls, like they go straight from the tanning salon to the beer pong tournament. That's wonderful! I've always hoped to look like them! Or maybe they mean the upscale neighborhoods in London and New York, the beverage, the hairstyle, or the boots worn by stormtroopers in Star Wars. Either way, I'm not quite sure how to take it.

It's how I got my name, though. My parents were considering the name Annelise if I was a girl, but somehow, "when we saw you, you just looked like a Chelsea." I felt somewhat like a Chelsea growing up, picturing her as someone steady rather than flighty, practical and not given to much girliness. (Although I was far too spacey to fully deserve my image of the name!) At the same time, I hated its meaning: "Port of Ships." Other girls got cool name plates with meanings like "Beloved" or "Harmonious" or "Joyful." Theirs came with amazing Bible promises tailored to their names. The lucky ones even had Bible characters or famous heroines who shared their names, whose character traits and qualities they could aspire to. My name, by contrast, wasn't available on most of those monogrammed souvenirs. "Port of Ships" smelled like fish, looked grey and dingy, and sounded like a steamboat. Thanks, Mom and Dad.

I've often wished for a more multi-cultural name. Most people named Chelsea are white Americans within ten years of my age. But if it's not a common girls' name to most people besides my peers, at least people are still familiar with it. Older adults ask if I'm named after Chelsea Clinton. When I played with little kids from the inner city, they said, "Of course - you're Chelsea like in 'That's so Raven' on Disney!"

When I studied in Europe, part of me hoped to go by my middle name, Elise. I may well have done it, except that people knew me already as Chelsea in both France and Germany. Anyhow, it worked out: I just had to tell people I was "Chelsea like the football club in England." (Works for Korean youth, too!) It's not the easiest to pronounce, but most people do OK with it, no matter their language background.

So I'm growing to accept it. More than that, I was recently challenged to appreciate it more. The subject came up at Bible study this spring, and someone mentioned the phrase "a port in a storm": a haven for people going through a rough time. Am I that kind of person? I want to be, and I think it's a trait I've been working to develop. Some of my most fulfilling moments have been listening to people experiencing difficulties and encouraging them. Maybe I finally have an identity in my name, just like the Ruths and Lydias and Hannahs I used to envy with their built-in role models. Maybe my name is finally meaningful, just as much as all those names with a cute plaque describing their significance. Maybe I'm starting to become a Chelsea.