What’s in a name?

This poem is for all folks with difficult and unique names that are mispronounced and misspelt, and those immigrants whose names are distorted

I saw it, I heard it yet again
Mutilated, distorted, bent
Once more I winced in pain
Though it was all inadvertent
My name- of my identity the bearer
Carelessly tossed on tongues foreign
Mispronounced, though I could not be clearer
On exactly how it was meant to be spoken
Also misspelt, misprinted, times innumerable
Double-checking my name second nature became
Never thought something so trivial could make me miserable
Did not know the power held within my name…
Many a times I did contemplate
Changing my name to something easier to pronounce
I struggled inwardly with this debate
My identity I was unwilling to renounce..

While I stayed conflicted, one fine day
I was interrupted at a conference
A long forgotten friend it was, and she did say
My name she had seen in a list; she had confidence
That no one but me could have possession
Of that unique name, she had never found
Anyone else with that name- in true confession
I would never have known she was around
By scanning the lists- she had a name short and sweet
But quite commonplace, I knew at least a dozen
Women by that name, I would have ignored it indeed..
For the first time, I gave my name ten on ten!Since then, over time I have made peace
With my name that is unique, but complicated
I’ve found my annoyance to decrease
On seeing deviations from the way it should be stated.