Say my name

My name is also often mispronounced. Not slaughtered, but just the wrong name. “Ah-na” like I am some proper British royalty, not “Anna” with my nasal-y Chicago “aa”. There is nothing wrong with the name “Ah-na”, it’s just not mine. And the mispronuncations come in all different flavors. I used to not correct people, but now I do - it’s my name after all - call me by my name please.

The ones I mind are the people who can’t be bothered. I introduce myself, say my “Anna” and they pick up on “Ah-na” regardless, a remnant from some other person they knew or just wandering attention. Honestly - this has mostly happened at work and for me sends the message “I just don’t care that much.”

The ones I don’t mind are the people whose tongues are accustomed to “ah”s and not “aa”s. My old Italian boss who lands it somewhere between the two sounds, my Austrian relatives or the Czech friends I made - there is it endearing somehow and I can soften with the “ah” sound and allow my name to meet them where they are. I even like it.

But having lived a life (at least a young life) or “Should I or shouldn’t I correct them?” imagine my chagrin in realizing my daughter’s name - Eva, spelled E - V - A - has the exact same problem. I should have anticipated this, but I didn’t. At all. I thought it was clear. E - V - A. But we’ve heard “Eh-va” and “Ay-va”so often. It actually makes me laugh. Such an unexpected inheritance.