How do you introduce yourself? I smile, wave at the person. Maybe give him a hug. Then I say, “Hi, I’m Uliana.” The person then replies, “Hi, I’m John.” It’s interesting how our names are often the first glimpses of ourselves we reveal to a stranger. The names represent, define us. We are our names.

Are our names us?

One person. Me. One name. Uliana.

Two parts. One soft. Second strong. Уль-яна.

My dad says that the morning I was born, my grandfather called. He had a dream he now had a granddaughter. He had a dream his granddaughter was named Юля. Yulya.  His ominous dream was almost a prophecy. He nearly guessed my nickname-Ulya.

My grandmother says she didn’t like my name at first. Uliana- the name of old ladies from her village. The name of ancient widows, who sit by their window all day, complain, and watch the world pass by.

My mom says they didn’t have a name prepared for me in advance. She says that she just knew immediately as she held the newborn me in her hands, that I was to be named me, that I was to be Уля. Ulya. Uliana.  

Marina, my aunt, says my name is the name of a famous Russian ballerina, Uliana Lopatkina. She claims it’s a good sign. A lucky one.

Sasha, my uncle, says that my initials- B.U., standing for Bazavluk Uliana- would make a great pen name. A play on sounds, if (when?) I publish my own book, the cover will scream at you, “Boooo!”.

My international friends typically can’t say my name correctly. The soft sign in the middle intricates the pronunciation, and the name alters, even if just a bit. I think that my name serves as a great metaphor for my experiences across cultures, backgrounds and nations. A little part of me is lost, but the newly established connections give back so much more.

My cousin, Lucy, doesn’t say anything about my name. She is only 18 months old, and right now she can only say  “Mama” and “Papa”. Also, for some unknown reason, “Крокодил”- crocodile. She doesn’t say anything about my name, and she can’t even say my name.

What do I say?

I say that I am delighted I am not a Masha or a Katya. With nothing against these names, I nevertheless feel special when I don’t meet my namesake on every corner. It makes me feel unique. I am Unique Uliana. And I am proud, and so incredibly happy, to be one.

I say my name is a part of me. My name represents me. But also, my name doesn’t define me. And for that, I am  grateful.

__________

You might have already memorized my name. Uliana. Do you want to know a bit more?

A glimpse of me from another lense:

I get easily offended when someone lists the miracles of the world and doesn’t include me. I’m a delight.

I’m just a girl, lost in the big, big world, trying to find herself.

I’m from St. Petersburg, Russia, and I truly adore my home. But I also love exploring new cultures and countries, and I always try to be free of prejudice. To remain open-minded, respectful, grateful. Happy.

Ready for a speed round? I like books. I love dancing. My favourite painter of all times? Botticelli. I think Russian ballet is perfection. My brother is the sweetest, and my newborn sister is an angel(except when she wakes up at two). I sometimes envy her- she truly is committed to her passions- sleeping, smiling and eating. I wish I could be that good at these things. Especially sleeping – many mornings, I wish I could sleep non-stop.  But then I realize I would miss too much of this world. Oh, and breakfast.

And so… Forth and fear no darkness!