What's in a Name?

My middle name is Van Deusen. There was once a time that I wouldn't admit that because it sounded funny and wasn't "normal." In elementary school, it seemed like the most humiliating thing in the world, perhaps worse than if I were to have webbed fingers. Frequently, kids would try to guess what the V stood for (Victor? Vincent? Vagina? giggle giggle), but I held firm on its classified status. Only close friends knew, and they were sworn to secrecy. Once, I was sold out by my friend to find out who his crush liked. Now, I take it as a compliment that my middle name was considered a powerful enough currency to obtain that kind of information, but at the time, this Van Deusen was ready to whip some traitorous ass.

For the record, Van Deusen is a family name, my mom's maiden name, in fact. Last summer, my mom and her cousin were discussing embarrassing nicknames in high school. Her cousin said, "And of course there was 'V.D.'" I turn to my mom and ask in the most innocent way, "Did anyone ever call you V.D.?" She gave me a disturbed, insulted look and said, "No!"

I didn't understand her response. It wasn't until a few hours later that I remembered what else V.D. stood for. I'm familiar with V.D.; I take medication for it, even. If I had been thinking, there's no way in hell that I would have asked my mom if she was called venereal disease in school, especially not so casually. For all these years, I never realized how embarrassing my middle name is; now I'm embarrassed for ever ceasing to be embarrassed by it!