Mary, Maria, Mariam… No, it is just Mari, but preferably written Marie, just as in French . But, what is your real name? Isn’t this just a nickname?  They would look at me shocked, confused as if I just said something in an unknown language. The so uncommon name in Armenia, so special, yet so foreign made me appreciate every syllable in it. At the age of ten I discovered that Marie  means a female bird in Armenian. Without losing a chance,  accepting the accidental discovery as a sign from the universe, I noted to myself that I, just like my name am free like a bird. a child’s curiosity is never fully satisfied unless someone thoroughly explains or shows them whatever they are looking for. I did everything in my childish power to discover the people with the same name and indulged the feeling of uniqueness. The most famous among Maries: Anna Marie Tussaud and Marie Skłodowska Curie had middle names.

As soon as I got acquainted with western cultures and discovered the possibility of having a middle name, the wish of having one never left me up to this point. I thought of many names. Among them were Helen and Iris but the name I eventually stopped on was Zabel. Two fierce women became my inspiration: Cilician queen Zabel and an acclaimed writer Zabel Yesayan. For some reason that name resembles light, strength, comfort, and yet again freedom. Maybe it’s me who tried to see freedom in everything, maybe it is the name, maybe it is my imagination. One of these days I might find the reason to add the name, but what matters the most is me associating myself, I will always love Marie, her free nature, her birdy self  and bizzare feeling of confusion that is triggered with every introduction.