Say My Name

Say My Name

My name is Millicent Melissa Souris, this week marks my 50th birthday. My father named me and my sisters, we are all M names. Initially I was to be Melissa, then my dad “happened” upon the name Millicent. I never knew where this name came from, there’s no family or friend or beloved character from a favorite story with it.¹ Then, during my father’s wake, my older cousin² told me that there was an “attractive blonde bartender” who worked at the bar some time around the summer of 1973. Her name was Millicent.

It’s a redundant name, each is a suggested alternative to the other. Millicent means industrious, and Melissa means honeybee. Ergo, I am a good worker.

The other day my landlord called me ‘Maleficent’ two out of the three times he said my name. It’s pretty easy to keep track when someone thinks you share a name with a well-known villain from children’s stories. He usually calls me ‘Millie,’ a classic nickname to be more casual, fun and familiar; three words that have never been used to describe me. I only let senior citizens call me ‘Millie,’ from my time working at the thrift store run by old folks. And now it appears, my landlord, because I live in his building and my partner told me to let it go.

That’s me in the middle. Look closely, I was a carefree child

He’s not even the first person to call me Maleficent. It’s usually in public settings, and it doesn’t happen that often but I definitely take notice. For those who don’t know, Maleficent is the wood fairy who cursed Sleeping Beauty to die on her 16th birthday. Not to be confused with the Evil Queen in Snow White, who gave her a poison apple. These are two completely different, beautiful, evil, older women hellbent on vengeance. I can only imagine how many college papers are dedicated to their existences. ³

Maleficents I have known

And here’s the biggest mistake regarding my name: 

It is misspelled on my birth certificate. A fact I discovered when I was 14 and saw my birth certificate for the first time. It rattled me.

“Who the fuck did this?” I asked my mom. 

“Don’t blame me, I wasn’t awake,” she replied. 

The birth was a C-section, my mom gradually became blind during her recovery. The doctor told her she felt such deep disappointment giving birth to another girl that she lost her vision. The mind does crazy things. Everyone else agreed; I mean, sons are great, right? My mother’s dad went and got a second opinion, one that discovered a needle’s puncture for her spinal tap didn’t seal up, allowing fluid to seep out and cause loss of sight. Her vision soon returned. 

If you’re a medical expert and none of this seems possible, please keep it to yourself. It’s the story I tell because it’s the story I know, the story I have. A person can only ask her mother to re-tell fucked up stories like this for validity of detail so many times. ‘Once’ is the acceptable amount of times for this question.

Anyway, I was a girl, born after the sun went down, in Baltimore, Maryland. Mistakes were made. You ever watch a John Waters’ movie? Homicide? The Wire? The way the local accent exerts itself upon vowel pronunciation is an impressive thing.⁴ No one has ever confessed that they were the misspelling culprit. I imagine it will stay that way, along with the name “Mallicent” on every official document I have.

1. I’m getting ahead of this to say that yes I know Barbie’s middle name is Millicent, and no, she does not count in this instance.

2. Get you a cousin like that and you’ll be prepared for your enemies. 

3. Like the title of this essay—is it ‘Say My Name’ from Beetlejuice or by Destiny’s Child?

4. Go watch “Heavy Metal Parking Lot” right now.