My mother is an author.
I feel like this explains a great many oddities in my life. She’s also a therapist; this explains the rest.
However, it is her authorial creativity that resulted in the subject of this blog.
My name.
My name is Tawny. A perfectly lovely name, one I have always cherished. However, it is also a name that hardly anyone has ever heard of. This is because it is the sort of name which is more normally chosen, later in life, as a stage name (as was coyly explained by a date. Subtext: it is a stripper name). Mom occasionally claims that she and dad thought it over beforehand, but I’m pretty convinced that this is what happens when you give a woman a birth certificate form when she is high off her butt on painkillers after a C-section, and there are soap operas on the hospital television.
As a biologist, I actually hear the word Tawny more commonly than most, since it is a color. Tawny describes a golden-brown, like the color of a lion. A quick Wikipedia search of “Articles Beginning with Tawny” describes a stunning 103 species of animal with names starting with Tawny, as well as three porn stars and one article on fortified wine.
Some of the more interesting animals with which I share a name:
The Tawny Frogmouth: an owl with expressions so amazing, it pretty much evolved so that people on the internet could put captions on it.
The Tawny-Speckled Pug: Inexplicably, a moth!
The Tawny Arboreal Rice Rat: Everything you could ever want to know about this animal, summed up in its incredibly unwieldy name. Thanks biologists!
One of the most interesting parts of having an unusual (made up) name is the moment of introducing yourself to someone new.
“Hi, I’m Tawny,” I say, a lifetime of bearing this name causing me to enunciate very clearly and slowly. Their smile freezes, extended hand pausing as they attempt to sort this new information.
“…Toni?” They attempt valiantly. Maybe I mispronounced it. Maybe they misheard it. They say it so clearly I can even hear the ‘i’ at the end, because surely I have a girl’s name. Obviously it isn’t Tawny, that isn’t a name.
“Tawny,” I repeat firmly, but kindly. This happens literally every time.
“Uh… I’m sorry, again?”
“Taw-ny.” At this point, I usually try spelling it for them. “Like the color?” I don’t know why I still try this, no one but biologists know tawny is a color. “Or the port?”
“…Tawny. That’s a color?” Yeah, I don’t know why I tried. At this point, we’ve spent so long trying to get my name across that they will always remember it, and we glazed over their name so quickly I’ve already forgotten it. This is my excuse for being terrible at remembering names, and I’m holding to it.
Another great moment is at Starbucks. The cheery barista scribbles on the cup, their words ten seconds behind their brain, when the pen halts halfway through my name. Wait. Not Tania? Not Tammy? …Did she say Connie? Or, possibly, Bonny? They scratch out whatever it was they wrote and try again. I say it again, slowly, and spell it, but they aren’t really listening, they’re just trying to figure out how to write it so that the person making the drink will say a close approximation. And this is where things get really interesting.
There is only one way to say Tawny if you see it written. It couldn’t be more unambiguous. But do you know how many different ways you can spell Tawny and have the sounds all come out right?
Tawney
Tawnie
Tawnee
Tahnee
Tawneigh
Tonnie
Tonay
These are all things that I have seen written on cups. The person calling out the name at the end stops and looks at it, confused. They say "I have a Grande Vanilla Latte for... uh... I have a Grande Vanilla Latte!" Upon reflection, I kind of feel bad for stressing out all these baristas. I am throwing a wrench in their finely tuned assembly line coffee process. Maybe I should start saying “Kate” or something.
But for all the extra work having a pseudo-name causes, I wouldn’t trade it for the world. I’m so fond of my unique name that the only time I’ve met another Tawny, I challenged her to a duel over the right to be the only Tawny.
Pretty sure she thought I was crazy.
