Since birth I’ve been plagued with a name that few can correctly spell. It’s not that it’s phonetically incorrect, just different from how most – and the Bible (no offense, Jesus) – spell it. It’s BethanEy (Beth – uh – nee), not Bethany. While forcing me to alpha-charlie-bravo my name in virtually every phone call, it’s a fate I’ll still gladly choose.
If I were Bethanie or Bethenny, I’d have headed to the courthouse at 1-day old.
It’s as though my parents predicted my future love for language (and equal love of judging those who get it wrong), giving me a name that was more correct than its original form...Read More