Just call me Meg. Please.

In 1972, my parents named me Megan. We lived in Pittsburgh, PA at the time. Megan wasn't a family name and had no significance beyond the fact that not many Megans were being born then. Along came 2nd grade in Miss Graham's class, and suddenly we were three Megans and a Meg in a class of 20. Now every little girl and her cousin are named Megan.

They also picked Megan as the spelling instead of Meghan since it was simpler. I'm not sure that anyone beyond friends and family have ever spelled my name correctly. It never ceases to infuriate me either. How can you not come close?! At least up north, everyone misspelled it with an "h". I live in the south now. People in NC want to spell my name in so many crazy ways. Meghan, Magen, Meagan, Magin, Meaghean (seriously?), Maygen, Megann. I could go on. They also mispronounce my name 'round these parts too. Instead of simply "Meg-an," they call me "May-gin" or worse, the dreaded "Meee-gan."

So now I go by Meg. One syllable, three letters. So far so good. If I could only find a way to abbreviate my Polish last name that they also can't pronounce and spell, I'll be in good shape.