My dad has this running joke that he almost named me [name_f]Celeste[/name_f] or a variant. It’s only running because as a child I was extremely fun to troll and I already hated my name so it was easy to stoke me up by mentioning it. The reason it’s so terrible and I know this is just a joke is because our surname is a variant of it. They couldn’t decide whether or not to name me after my maternal grandmother (with [name_f]Teresa[/name_f] and [name_f]Tessa[/name_f] variants) or after my dad and his sister (who were [name_u]Laurence[/name_u] and [name_f]Lorraine[/name_f] respectively). They had several picks. In the end they went with [name_f]Laura[/name_f], for my dad, and [name_f]Mae[/name_f], after my mom’s nickname.
(They gave up honoring anyone with my sister’s name and went with [name_f]Lily[/name_f] [name_f]Anne[/name_f]. I almost named myself [name_m]Daniel[/name_m] as a six-year-old, which is strange considering my dad has a cousin of that name several years older than me and that by that point I hadn’t met him yet.)
If I’d been born a boy I could’ve been [name_m]Sanjiv[/name_m] (?? still dunno the deal about that) or [name_m]Miguel[/name_m]–and what’s weird about the last option is that my dad has a colleague and friend who is also my godfather. [name_m]Said[/name_m] godfather has four kids, three boys and one girl. The girl is his second child and born two months after me, in the same year, and his third child and second son is named [name_m]Miguel[/name_m]. To think that if [name_f]Ella[/name_f] and I had been born boys, we might’ve had the same name is [name_m]WILD[/name_m].