Rosemary (n.) Dew of the sea or an evergreen aromatic shrub of the mint family.

The name Rosemary doesn’t feel like it’s a name that belongs to me. It reminded me of the time when I first went to day care, and I was assigned a pigeon hole. Each pigeon hole has a sticker of a creature and the carer told me to pick a pigeon hole. I picked the one with the butterfly. I thought butterflies were cute and pretty. The carer told me to pick the koala instead because the butterfly one was already occupied. I had to accept it despite the fact that I hated it.

That’s how I feel about my name. I don’t like it but I have to accept it. Yeah I could change it but I’ve grown familiar to it.

My parents told me that they thought I would come out as a boy and the name they decided to give me was Alexander (I think that’s a nice name).

Surprise! It’s a girl! Just name her after the midwife. To my displeasure, but Alexandra would have been a better option.

The perks is there isn’t many girls name Rosemary and I get compliments on how beautiful the name is. Yes it is a beautiful name. It is also very feminine. My name does not match my personality. I do not look like a Rosemary. I’m not very feminine.

Introducing myself is a chore. It doesn’t roll off the tongue smoothly. When introducing myself, I break down the syllables. “Hi, my name is Rose-ma-ry.”

The only time I liked my  name was when my boyfriend asked me to be his girlfriend. “Rosemary, will you be my girlfriend?”. I liked how it sounded when he said it.


I don’t know how to end this post. Here’s a random picture I took in the Chinese garden.







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