Embracing My Eastern European Side

I watched the movie Testament of Youth based on Vera Brittain's memoir, and I fell in love with my long-neglected Polish name that had been lying on the attic for ages. Allow me to introduce the beautiful name Weronika. The first mention of Berenice, the daughter of Herod Agrippa, appears at the time of the last destruction of the Temple in Jerusalem, which was also carried out by her cruel lover. For a long time, I thought it was a very unlucky name, and I definitely preferred my cheerful Hebrew name, Roni. But today, I'm not so sure, because I quickly fall in and out of love with names and versions of myself as well. My feelings are beautiful, like the tides along the Algarve coast in Portugal.

So at this moment, I feel like Vera, though this may be very fleeting. I have a different name for every element of myself; I like to think of it as a component that combines. I have such great respect for myself lately that I even write about myself and my names, or elements, starting with a capital letter. I believe everyone should have more than one name. We should add or adopt new names depending on the occasion, just for the sake of celebration. We have only one life; should we go through it bearing just one name all the time? Wouldn't that be as boring as having only one lover? Perhaps faithful, perhaps beautiful and pathetic, but also boring! Boring as hell!

Choosing a writing career forces me to at least, for the sake of formality or building some cultural awareness, simply mark or write down my presence in the world, just to make it funnier, literally. Am I babbling? Didn't understand a word? What exactly were you expecting, what did you want to understand in an essay about the identity of an Eastern European woman?

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