R is for Rebecca

I'm not sure if they did it on purpose, but I think that my parents gave me a very sensible name.

A transitional name, perhaps.

One that can change with age.

Rebecca.

Shortened to Becky as a child.

Everyone still calls me Becky - I'm in touch with my youth y'know.

But to think of myself as a Granny one day, Becky doesn't seem to fit.

I always imagine being old and people not calling me Becky anymore.

No, when I'm old and grey people will call me by my birth certificate name.

Rebecca.

A few days ago, I was pushing the boy I nanny for in a swing and casually chatting with the woman stood next to me who was also pushing a little one in a swing and before I even knew what I was saying, I told the woman that my name was Rebecca.

I didn't even consciously make the decision to introduce myself as Rebecca, but it happened.

And then a very scary thought washed over me, that still makes me shudder to recall.

I'm becoming a grown up.

I pay bills, own a car, cook my own dinner, wash my own clothes and do a plethora of other grown up activities.

When did this happen?

Because I swear in my head I'm still only 15 years old.