When I was younger I always thought about what my name might have been if I was ever given the opportunity to change it. I don’t remember what any of the names had been, probably something to make my initials seem cooler, because A.R.D. didn’t really seem very unique or as ‘cool’ as my older brother’s initials that are B.A.D. I remember my aunt always singing me the Aardvark song to make me feel better about my initials, because as a kid that was something that I would need help feeling better about in my six year old logic. Looking back on it, my aunt was my best friend when I was younger, and I will forever wish that she lived closer to me for both my aunt and my five year old cousin. But, back to my name. I really hadn’t thought my name was that odd or uncommon even though growing up I had only ever met one other person named Ashton, and they spelled their name with a ‘y’ in stead of an ‘o’. It wasn’t something I found weird, and I always just felt like it made me unique. However after working at Starbucks for over a year and a half I still have numerous customers asking me if “Ashton is really my name.” Today I had two, actually, ask me this question. And I do recognize that there’s the difference between a customer asking me that just to ensure they call me by the right name, maybe I grabbed someone else’s apron, but this is in a way almost disrespectful. It’s disrespectful in the sense that I feel as though I in a way lose my identity when my name is questioned, but also because of the fact that it’s the name my mother picked for me, and my mom is my best friend. By disrespecting my mother, it’s disrespecting me.
