On Names and Stories that Make Up Life

My name is Mighty. Nope, that’s not my nickname. It’s not my pseudonym either. It’s the name my father and mother gave me when they brought me into this world. It’s the name printed on my birth certificate.

mighty-kid

image credit; https://tadonggeniuskuno.wordpress.com/2013/02/18/zenco-no-more/mighty-kid/

Weird. I know.

So weird that my name is attached to dozens of products: Mighty Kid Shoes, Mighty Mouse cartoons, Mighty Cigarette, Mighty Bond, Mighty Toilet Bowl Cleaner, Mighty Katol, Mighty whatever. Thankfully, nobody thought of putting my name on feminine napkins.

But one of the upside of having a weird name? It’s a conversation starter. And for an introvert like me, I need something like that.

I probably met only three people with the same name as mine. One of them even had a weird spelling; Mightee. That’s even weirder than my name. My name is often misspelled by Starbucks baristas; Migthy, Maydee, Maytee, My-T. How much more if my parents played with the spelling of my name?

While being interviewed by a US immigration officer at Detroit airport in the US, he said that he expected a man with “Mighty” for a name to be big, strong, and well… Mighty. But I told him that I’m an average Filipino and retorted that perhaps I could just be mighty in other things. We laughed. And while waiting for my baggage at the carousel area, I thought about my name and how I could really live up to it.  Continue reading