What’s in a Name? Everything.

You could say my name is something my parents gave me... but truly, it’s a gift I’ve spent my whole life unwrapping. Ebony. Five simple letters, but oh, how they’ve shaped me. Growing up in Dallas, I don’t recall a time when I wasn’t acutely aware of its weight, its meaning, and its melody. Ebony, like the wood: dark, smooth, durable. Ebony, like the magazine: glamorous, iconic, unapologetically Black. My name announced itself before I even said hello, and trust me—we’re not talking shy, whisper-in-the-back-of-class energy.

But have you ever taken a moment to think about the way your name fits you? To wonder if the syllables reflect the contours of your spirit? Whether you chose it (shoutout to my friends who’ve renamed themselves), inherited it, or grew into it grudgingly, one thing is undeniable: your name can mold your identity like a favorite pair of jeans—hugging you in the right places, stretching where needed, and sometimes feeling just a little stiff after laundry day.

So today, let’s talk names, identities, and all the ways five tiny letters can shape a lifetime of love, perception, and personality.

The Origin Story: My Parents and a Symphony of Intent

My parents, like the overachievers they are, didn’t just pick a name. No, they curated it. Ebony wasn’t simply something pretty to write on a birth certificate—it was deliberate. Thoughtful. Like an artist carefully choosing a hue to paint the first stroke of a masterpiece.

“Ebony,” my dad told me years later, was a celebration of Blackness: a nod to my heritage, roots, and richness. My mom, the multitasking legal powerhouse that she is, also appreciated its simplicity—easy to spell and pronounce (a practical Texas gal through and through). And because my dad believed no name could truly sing solo, they added my middle name, Adele. Yes, long before "Hello from the other side" Adele was serenading us all, “Adele” whispered refinement, grace, and just a splash of Southern charm. I had a name made for magazine covers, law firm directories, and maybe—ahem—dating app profiles.

But living up to that name? Now, that was the trick.

Rule Number One: Ask Questions When People Mispronounce It

“Oh, like the wood?” someone would often say, brows furrowed as they tried to make my name sound more exotic—or, worse, describe me like furniture. I’d nod politely while holding back the side-eye. Sure, it’s a teaching moment, but sometimes you’re eight years old, wearing jelly sandals, and just trying to enjoy your juice box.

In high school, though, I developed a strategy: when someone mangled my name in roll call, I stopped correcting them and started asking, “What’s your name? Oh, it’s Jenna? Is that with one ‘n’ or two?” Harmless curiosity, right? But they’d inevitably stumble, shift a little, and realize—hey, my name isn’t just a word. It’s me. And it deserves care.

Pop Culture Doppelgangers: A Love-Hate Relationship

Names, after all, come preloaded with pop culture associations. If you’re named Beyoncé, congratulations—you’ve won. But for every Beyoncé, there are about 200 Karens currently fighting some less-than-deserved stigma.

For me, there was Ebony magazine. It was iconic and aspirational—pages full of radiant Black excellence and culture. But in middle school, it turned into lazy punchlines. “Oh my gosh, we should call you ‘Ebony and Ivory!’” kids would tease, as if I hadn’t already heard it 12 times that week. Word to the wise: if you’re dating someone with a “buzzy” name, skip the obvious jokes. Trust me, they’ve rejected every “creative” awkward pickup line about it.

Names and the Romance Resume

Speaking of dating, can we take a moment to talk about “name attraction”? Because yes, it’s a thing—and it’s ridiculously subjective. I once went on a date with a guy named Trevor and couldn’t get past it. No offense to Trevors of the world, but something about his name made me picture him as a guy who owned an extensive sock collection—or worse, someone who still referred to a football game as “the big game.”

Your name might spark assumptions (accurate or not!), and navigating that in the dating world is an art form. But here’s the real kicker: I learned the hard way never to judge a name too quickly. Because two years post-Trevor, I found myself head-over-heels for a guy with an even-funnier moniker I dare not repeat here. Let’s just say names may get you a glance, but they don’t determine chemistry.

What Your Name Says About You (and What It Doesn’t)

Here’s the thing about names: they offer an entry point, a first impression, but they’re not the whole story. Banishing stereotypes starts with understanding that while my name speaks boldly of my roots and identity, it’s one piece in a bigger mosaic.

Does it mean I’m always polished like Ebony magazine? Ask me on laundry day. Does it mean I’m effortlessly resilient like the wood itself? Honestly, some days I’d rather cocoon with my Aretha Franklin vinyls and recharge.

Names can shape perception, sure, but they don’t define us. It’s what we do with them—how we inhabit them fully—that ultimately tells the tale.

Embracing Your Signature

So how do you live authentically in the letters you’ve been given? Well, here are a few lessons I’ve picked up along the way:

  • Wear It Proudly: Even if your name isn’t “cool” by conventional standards, make it cool. Own it like Rihanna owns red lipstick. Confidence is half the battle.
  • Correct People, but Be Playful: When someone flubs my name, I smile and say, “Oh, don’t worry—it’s just like the wood, but with more flair.”
  • Rethink the Associations: A name is only as good or bad as the memories tied to it. Being intentional about showing people who you are makes a far bigger impact than the first five seconds they spend hearing your name.
  • Choose Your Own Nicknames: If you need to square up to your full name with a softer intro (shoutout to the Jessica-to-Jess ecosystem), then do it. And if you need to rebrand entirely? Also valid.
  • Celebrate Your Roots: Whether your name is common, bold, or somewhere in between, ask your family about its history or meaning. (And if they didn’t think that far ahead? Well, then you get to create the meaning.)

Final Thoughts: Signed, Sealed, Delivered

At the end of the day, your name is an invitation—to yourself, your heritage, and the world you’re building. It’s the first line of your bio, the way every new connection remembers you (or misspells you on Starbucks cups). It deserves care, but it also deserves fun.

Ebony taught me resilience and refinement—but most importantly, how to laugh when someone says, “Oh, like the piano keys?” It’s been a journey, and I wouldn’t have it any other way.

Whether you’re loving your letters or still finding your footing in them, take a deep breath and remember: you are bigger, bolder, and more complex than any syllable could ever hold. Add your own twist.

Because whatever the world calls you, you’re calling the shots.