This post brought to you by the letter “S.”
Image from here.
Before I got married, my last name started with “S.” I was Camille S—, and I was deliriously happy to be her. (Well, except for the phase in 5th grade during which I wanted everyone to call me Kara, or later in 6th grade when I insisted I was Cammie. Those were just growing stages. Once I “matured” [I use the word loosely], I learned to embrace my name, and I have ever since.)
I have many theories on names, like which first names sound good with certain last names, the ideal number of syllables a person’s name ought to contain, etc. My theories vary from person to person, and they’re quite complex, so let’s not delve that way today. I can’t take “complex” right now.
Instead, let’s just talk about moving up in the world. Even though I was happy to be Camille S—, there was always a quiet longing in my heart to be earlier in the alphabet. I thought of it as upward motion. Because really, “S” might as well be “Z.” There are only a handful of letters in the alphabet that follow the letter “S,” and most of them are uncommon first letters of American surnames. “T”s are fairly common, but how many “U”s do you know? And “V”s? Not many, I’d venture to guess. Of course, “W” is pretty widespread (White, Worthen, Walker), but “X?” Not really. Nor “Y,” nor “Z.” So you see, of the seven letters following S, only two are very abundant last name letters. Thus, on an average attendance sheet, my name was very near the bottom of the list. Always last to be called, that was me. I was happy to be Camille S—, and couldn’t imagine being anyone else, but I didn’t like being called last all the time. My plight was a sorry one, to be sure.
My sister took matters into her own hands and saw to it that she married an “A.” Having a first name that already starts with A, she instantly became A. A., thus catapulting herself to the top of every sign-in sheet and telephone book for the rest of her days. Can’t get more upwardly mobile than that, eh, sis? (She’s the favourite child. {Obviously.})
{I talk about our last name as though it is some sort of plague—I don’t mean to make my dear old dad feel bad. “S—” is a great name, Dad—a strong, sturdy, dependable name. Truly. If you must know, I haven’t even officially changed any of my legal papers over to Poor Kyle’s last name, so, for all intents and purposes, I’m still Camille S—. Even my Facebook™ account still says so. See there? Don’t feel bad.}
Image from here.
Anyway, you’d better believe that Poor Kyle’s last name was a consideration when I was deciding whether to marry him. I would become Camille F—, which, in my opinion, was a bonus. I’d be marrying up in the world. Moreover, according to my grandma, PK’s last name sounded “fancy.” Even now, she can never remember what it is, so she always calls us “the Worthingtons.”
Every time I correct her, her defense is the same: “Well, I knew it was something fancy, like Worthington.”
Worthington is a fancy name, to be sure, but it’s a good thing it’s not my name, because that would have been a step down for me. I’m all about “upward and onward.” We mustn’t be regressing now, or we’d never get anywhere.
My mom talks about how she almost decided against marrying my dad, just because she’d have to move from L. down to S. I guess she got over it, though, and it’s a good thing, because if she hadn’t, then where would I be?
Come to think of it, I’d be lost without a lot of things my mother taught me…
Are you happy with your last name initial? Or do you intend to become upwardly mobile someday? Or did you sacrifice your place in Roll Call for a true love with a later letter last name? I want to hear all about it, please.
Image from 
Afton’s comment in 
See what I mean? Quirky, yes; but it just wasn’t coming together properly. No bueno.
