When my mother found out she was pregnant with a baby girl, she and my father took a piece of paper each, went to separate rooms, and wrote their top 10 baby names to brainstorm ideas. 

Luckily enough, they both had the name “Adelaide” on their lists and it was decided from that moment forward that my name would be “Adelaide.” 

I demand to be called “Adelaide,” just like you should demand to be called by your chosen name.

You shouldn’t ignore or change your name just to please others like I did for so many years.

For those who have not heard my name before, it’s pronounced AH-DUH-LAYD. 

Some of you reading this may have heard the name before or found it confusing why I needed to explain the pronunciation. 

Unfortunately, a majority of the people I meet have never heard my name before. 

Often when I tell someone my name, I face a look of confusion and the response, “Adelaine?,” “Adeline?” or “Adelide?”

When I began school at age 4, my teachers and classmates always called me by my nickname, “Addie.” 

I always tried introducing myself as “Adelaide” to new people but rarely did that work. My nickname was always what I told people to call me when they couldn’t get my name right the first time, and “Addie” stuck all the way through 8th grade. 

The love for my real name began when I was in 4th grade and joined the school news team. During my first broadcast, I introduced myself the way I always had. 

“Good morning, Roberts Elementary. My name is Adelaide Spradling bringing you the morning news.”

One of my classmates on the news team asked me about my name afterward and wanted to know what it meant. I told him I wasn’t sure and went about the rest of my day without thinking of it again. 

The next day at lunch, he came up to me and told me he had Googled my name the night before. 

“Adelaide means noble,” he informed me. 

It’s a German name, just like my great-grandmother Imelda, whom I was lucky to know as a child. She was the last fluent German speaker in our family.

Before that, I had never thought about my name meaning anything or representing my heritage; “Adelaide” just meant me.

This realization sparked my newfound love for my name.

It wasn’t until high school, when I had a brand new set of teachers and many new peers, that I was able to insist everyone called me “Adelaide.”

It was a fresh start, and I had decided that no matter how difficult it was for others, I would be called by my name. 

The feeling of being called by the name both of my parents had so carefully and intentionally picked out for me is one that I struggle to explain. 

It was difficult at first to correct others, but I soon realized it was worth it. 

The joy I feel when the Starbucks barista gets my name right the first time is genuinely unmatched. 

I write all this to tell you one big lesson I learned: Your name is your power. 

My psychology professor reminded us of this on the first day of classes. She encouraged us to correct her if she pronounced our names wrong.

As I pursue my education degree, this thought echoes through my mind. 

I will do everything in my power to learn and correctly pronounce my students’ names.

I will not let what happened to me happen to my students. 

Your parents picked your name for a reason. 

Regardless of where it comes from, it’s yours and it belongs to you; your name is your power and you should wear it proudly.