Pieces - Part I

Wiski really is my name...and no, my parents weren't drinkers (most people either ask that right when I tell them my name, or if they don't ask it, a lot of people think it.) Anyways, my father wanted to name me Brandy after that song, "Brandy, you're a fine girl....make a good wife" (I'm sure you know what song I'm talking about). My mother on the other hand wasn't a huge fan of the name, she liked the name Linnette. Well....then she had me, and it wasn't a pleasant labor (I don't have children yet....but I don't recall any woman I know saying their labor was pain free...sorry, I digress). So there my mother was, just done delivering me via c-section, the dr. messed up and numbed her from the neck down (can we say opps) and she was all doped up on who knows what...My dad was holding me and was like, "Aww...look at how adorable our Brandy is." Now my mother has always been one for sarcastic dry humor, and in all of her sarcastic glory she looked at him and said, "No daughter of mine will be named Brandy...if we name her anything we might as well name her Whiskey." He really liked it and my mom thought it was different, unique and cute. They changed the spelling and viola; I was christened Wiski-Linnette Lee. So, I don't really have a middle name...just a really long first name.

I went by Wiski until I was about 2 and a half. My mother's side of the family is quite Christian, quite conventional and quite conservative, they never called me Wiski, it was Sissy. When I was 2 and a half my parents separated and my father kidnapped me. That’s my first memory. I don't feel dramatized by it, its something that’s always been a part of who I am. When my father drove off with me my mother broke her foot running down our front lawn (the yard sloped down). She went to the hospital and was told she needed surgery on her foot and she looked at the doctor and told him she had to go after her daughter. The doctor had the nurses and attendants leave the room, told her he wasn't doing this and then slit the cast open and had her leave the hospital through a rear entrance. My mom with the help of my uncle and grandfather drove to Arizona and went to the police there. She had all the correct paperwork completed in California. The Arizona police had the audacity to tell her that they would recognize California law, but that they wouldn't enforce it. My mom pretty much told them to F off and that she was going to get me, and that’s just what she did.

After the kidnapping and divorce (my mom got sole custody) she asked me what name I wanted to go by and I answered “Linny mommy.” My older brother called me Linny and I liked it. I started elementary school as Linnette...and that was who I was. I knew my name was Wiski, it was a conversation piece, but I never felt that was who I was. In high school I knew I wanted to go to college, and I wanted all my pieces of self to match. My school records had one name, my health insurance, birth certificate and everything else said Wiski. My mother and I discussed changing my name to Linnette...but I just couldn't do it.

I've never had a relationship with my father. I have two memories of him, the kidnapping and I vaguely remember seeing him when I was 5. I didn't grow up a wounded child, I didn't cry over the fact that I didn't have a dad, and looking back now, that surprizes me. But at the time it was just something I didn't have. When it came to changing my name and dropping the Wiski I just couldn't do it. It was a part of me, a part of where I came from and I couldn't just throw it away.

So often people hide "parts" of their self. They're either too scared to share, or intimidated that they are going to be judged. Nobody is perfect, but pieces of perfection can be reached through acceptance.

I made the decision at 16 to change my school records to Wiski-Linnette Lee. I went to college on a full scholarship and when I moved into the dorms the RA's put nametags on all the rooms. Mine said Wiski and the story kind of ends there. It was then that I made the decision to go by Wiski.

Going to college was a new start for me, for the first time I was living my life for me, not for anybody else, and as cheesy as it sounds I was ready to be Wiski. I was ready to accept the past, accept my roots, and at the same time I was ready to be independent. I'm a firm believer that there is power in reclamation.

My extended family still calls me Linnette. My mother goes back and forth. I go by Linnette at work for simplicity, but everybody knows my name is Wiski. To my dear friends and the rest of the world I'm Wiski. Its fun, its unique, and like me it has a story.