What's In A Name?

Kids can be mean. And kids can be sensitive. When some kid in Ogden decided to tease me about my name “Nyla,” I started to hate my name. I just plain hated it. It wasn’t a normal name, anyway. Maybe that’s why I went through my Katie/Kattie phase. At any rate, I hated my name.

So I decided, when we moved to Corcoran, that I would start going by my middle name. When we drove into town, we went to the Branch President’s house, where we had been invited to stay for a night or two while we waited for our stuff to get there. Sister Clark asked us what our names were, and my mom introduced me as Nyla. I was devastated, and completely gave up. I mean, if they knew my name was Nyla there was no point trying to use my middle name. It was all ruined. (Pre-teens can be so dramatic)! I knew it wasn’t my mom’s fault, I don’t think I’d even told anyone of my plans to change my name. But it was over, my chance had come and gone, and that was that.

When we moved to Turlock, I decided I had been given another chance. This time, our family was at our house on Greenwood, and Sam and I had been invited over to someone’s house—I think they were giving us a ride to YM/YW. Sister Bayless asked what our names were, and Sam said, “Sam and Nyla.” At the exact moment he said “Nyla,” I said “Suzanne.” And then she looked a little confused, so I just explained that my name was Suzanne, and that was that. (I was a little more mature at this point, so I knew it wasn’t “over” just because someone had heard my first name.

I introduced myself as Suzanne to everyone I met in Turlock, and that’s all they knew me as, so the change was solid. So from then on, I was Suzanne. 

Greenwood Lane

Our first house in Turlock was 1650 Greenwood Lane. It was a single story 3 bedroom 2 bathroom home. It may not have been our biggest house to date, but it was the most beautiful. At least, that was what I thought. There was a park a few doors down, which was awesome. We had a garage--that may have been the first time ever that we had a house with a garage. Things like that always make you feel good. The front door opened to the living room. (That's typical, apparently). Straight back from the living room was the hallway that lead to the bedrooms. At the end of the living room, there was also a small hallway that lead to the kitchen, and in the kitchen was a sliding glass door leading to the back yard. The kitchen was a decent size, nice and open with plenty of room for a table. Down the hall there were three bedrooms. The first room on the left was my bedroom, if I remember correctly, and I assume I shared it with someone, although I have zero memory of that part of it. The second bedroom on the left was another bedroom, again I have no idea whose it was, specifically. On the right side of the hall, in between and across from the bedrooms, was a bathroom. At the end of the hall was the door to the master bedroom. I believe this was also the first time we had a house with a master bedroom. (As a parent myself, now, I can really appreciate that for my mom and dad. Yay for master bedrooms!) As a kid, I thought it was pure luxury, in a very enjoyable way, for a bedroom to have its own personal bathroom! The bathroom was to the right once you entered the bedroom. I believe my parents' room also had sliding glass doors leading to the back yard. We stayed in this house for about three years. I'm not sure why we ended up moving, but we did.