I’m not entirely sure why my mother gave me the name she did. She can’t even remember where she heard or found it. It’s an Irish Gaelic name that means little fire, and it’s the female version of Aidan.
As far as I know, there’s not an ounce of Irish blood in me, so why an Irish name? And why one that very few people can pronounce the first, let alone the 100th time?
Childhood and youth are difficult enough without having to hear a number of (albeit interesting) versions of your name. I was so shy in elementary school, whatever the teacher called me the first day was likely to be my name for the year, unless someone corrected him or her. In high school I was still shy and was “Ethna” for an entire year.
There’s nothing like a call from an automated voice to make my mother burst out laughing. According to the Ottawa Public Library, I’m aitheen hinkling.
I’ve heard Aethena and Aithne. Sometimes the person simply stammers or hesitates. Then I or someone else pipes up, “Oh, Aethne!”
“Yeah, that’s the one,” they reply, relieved they didn’t have to attempt the nightmare of a Gaelic name.
For the record, Gaelic names often have odd letters tossed into odd place. I have a friend named Graidhne. I’m not sure where the D or H came from. And I’m not even really sure where the I and E came from either, since it’s pronounced grawnia.
At least I’m not alone with my odd name. My mother’s name is Annika, which isn’t as odd, but it certainly isn’t common - at least not here. My brother’s name is Nigel. That too isn’t a common name here, but at least it’s relatively pronounceable. My aunt’s name is Katarina, so she often gets Katrina. My cousin’s name is Digby, so he often either gets high fives or odd looks.
For the longest time, I dreamed my name was Carrie.
As I’ve gotten older, I’ve come to appreciate the fact there’s normally only one Aethne wherever I live, work or go to school. While things might be a little simpler if my name were Sarah or Laura or Emily, there’s something to having a name that makes people stop and think.
In case the name still stumps, it’s like ethnic but eth-nee. I sometimes say, “It’s eth-knee,” and give my knee a little tap.
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