Your Name - Blessing or Curse? Part 1

I've always hated my name. Never REALLY knew why until Junior High when I thought I would explode if I didn't begin to question the thoughts that kept rolling around in my head. Thoughts like....."Who named me Barbara... and WHY"?
It seemed as though every time I'd hear my name, I'd cringe. WHY? What's wrong with the name Barbara anyway?

Back in the 50's and 60's it was common....even popular actually. There were songs written with my name right in the title. Songs like 'Barbara Ann'(very famous) and 'Please Don't Ask About Barbara'. Anyone remember those? My closest friends would sometimes call me Barbie...partly because I looked like her, but mostly because I was BLOND, if you know what I mean. Very smart, very talented...... but very BLOND. I have some great blond moments that I'll share later. You'll have a good laugh, I'm sure.

Now back to my emotional trauma. I remember the day I told my Mother about the feelings I had concerning my name... and there it was, the answer I was looking for, staring me right in the heart. And oh, did it hurt.

Being a teacher, my Mother, as with many, had her favorite students. This one in particular was named Barbara. She was bright, talented, well-behaved, polite, and everyone seemed to like her. Basically....the perfect student. So, she named me Barbara in hopes that I would be just like her. The standard was set, the expectation was in the air, and I was subconsciously trying to measure up. Most would say that Barbara's profile was a lot like mine. My Mother, however, would have taken exception to that statement. Her observation of me was........stubborn, outspoken, scatter-brained, always wanting the last word, tattle-tail, academic underachiever, and the list would go on. I do have to say, though, that she would always rave about my musical talents to friends and family, which ended up being a turn-off to most.

In all fairness, I will say, that my Mother's intent was to have a daughter that would succeed in life. She truly wanted the best for me. I certainly understand, being a Mom myself. My objection was not the desire, but the process. And, I'll say it again, my Mother truly wanted the best for me. I know that. We walk in what we know.....and regret what we didn't see. Thank God for forgiveness and restoration!!!!

So, there it was. High expectations, that I never felt I measured up to, and a pattern in my life that lasted way into my adult years. So, what would be the catalyst that would break the cycle of performance and the curse that was attached to my name? And, what would give me the freedom to be the Barbara that I was created to be?