My name is Dodie...

Well, not really. My name is really Devota. (AACK!)

My mom spent her whole life hating being saddled with a name more unique than any of her friends (Vera), to the point where she had always gone by her middle name of Jane and was known to have even beaten up little boys who taunted her by calling her Vera in grade school. Ironically, this same woman decided that I should be named after her best friend. A woman with a name that NO ONE had ever heard of. A name that her friend’s own mother had gotten from some unforgotten novel.

My mom's friend Devota’s nickname was Votie. It was determined from the beginning that I would, instead, be Dodie. At the very least, I think I won in the nickname department.

So I battled my way through grade school as well. Not with my fists, like my mother had, but quietly and with much shame when, on the first day of school every year the teacher would call roll and say, “Devota,” and I would have to quickly chime in with my mantra, “Here. But I go by Dodie. D-O-D-I-E. Thank you.”

Then there was a sudden, unexpected bright spot on the name front when I was 8 years old! On “My Three Sons,” a popular sitcom at the time, the character of widower Steven Douglas (played by Fred MacMurray) married a woman who had a five year old daughter. That daughter’s name was… DODIE!

Hooray! I was no longer a complete oddity! Suddenly there were Dodie dolls! Dodie paper dolls! Dodie books! The craze didn’t last for long, but while it did, it made me feel somewhat more confident. After all, no one else I knew had a TV namesake.

As I’ve grown older, Devota has grown on me. I actually think it’s kind of a pretty name now and I’ve fantasized about using it when I finally get around to publishing my first great novel; but it’s far more likely that I’ll be Dodie for the rest of my life.

That’s okay with me. It could be worse. I could be Votie.