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A rose by any other name...

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My name is Fay. Without an ‘e’. My full name is Fay Elizabeth Short, so this makes me Fay E Short. The irony of the placement of that E has not gone unnoticed.

I did not begin my life as a Short. I was born to Michelle Matthews in Hull in 1980, so my formative years were spent as Fay Elizabeth Matthews. Matthews is a fine name, and it had been handed down to my mother by my grandmother, Patricia Matthews. Thankfully, I was given my mother's maiden name and not the name of my biological father. He was called Sam Day. This means that I would have been Fay Day. I think you can see potential for mockery in that name.

I was raised by my maternal grandmother and her partner. Thankfully, I was not raised by my maternal grandfather. His name was Andrew Tooth. My maternal grandparents had four children before they divorced: Michelle (my mother), Julie, Andrew, and Anthony. Yes, my grandparents were cruel enough to name a child ‘hand-toe-knee-tooth’. After the divorce of their parents, Michelle reverted back to her maiden name of Matthews and Julie married to become a Lloyd.

My grandmother, Patricia, also reverted back to her maiden name of Matthews. But she would occasionally adopt the surname of her new partner, Arthur Parker. They were together for forty-five years before she legally took his name following the official ‘I do’, but this did not stop her from establishing bank accounts, mortgages, and utility bills as Mrs Patricia Parker in the interim. My grandmother was a formidable woman with an obviously irreproachable manner, and I suspect that most people were too afraid to demand to see any official documentation to confirm her true name. Arthur raised me as his own and I love him as a father. But I am very relieved that I grew up as a Matthews, not a Parker. He was kind enough to bestow upon me his stubborn nature, determined character, and hardy constitution: I did not need him to also gift me the title of nosey-parker.

While I was always aware of my true biological connections, I knew Patricia and Arthur as ‘mam’ and ‘dad’. My biological mother was usually ‘Michelle’, but sometimes ‘pain in the neck’: we grew up like sisters, and I always felt like the older sibling. I also have three biological siblings. The eldest of my younger brothers is named James Thomas Toby (after the family dog) Wilkinson and my next two brothers in order of descending age are Daniel Luke Matthews and Lee Matthews.

It is common to consider physical appearance, sense of humour, or even financial status when identifying a potential life-partner. But I think it's equally important to reflect on their name. Even if you decide against taking that name as your own, you must decide whether you really want to be forever known as the wife of Ben Dover or Theresa Green. I'm a bit of a romantic and I always knew I would want to share a name with my future husband. I also knew that I wanted to complete a PhD, so the name of my future husband had to be equally good following Mrs and Dr: Mrs Pepper is just about endurable, but Dr Pepper is an absolute no-no. I dated a boy named Matthew Leah in my teenage years, and the relationship was clearly doomed from the start. Marriage would have made me a Fay Leah. We couldn’t even get around the problem by having him to take my surname instead, as he would have become Matthew Matthews.

Unfortunately, such sensible consideration of names does not enter into your head when struck down with the virus known as love. I fell in love with a man named Colin Short, thus condemning me to a life as Dr Short. Things could have been worse, but I am still annoyed that he had not also held onto the name of his maternal grandmother. I could then have become a rather dramatic Dr Starr. But, sadly, this was not to be. I have instead taken my place in the Short ranks alongside my brother-in-law Ian and daughter-in-law Debbie (Colin’s second daughter Fern had a narrow escape when granted the surname of her mother).   

They say that the name maketh the man. Or woman in this case. I am a Short: helping me to stay proud of my working-class background by reminding me of my true stature regardless of my professional successes. I am an Elizabeth: neither godly nor regal, but definitely trying to be more ladylike and saintly. And I am a Fay: not quite a mythical faerie, but fascinated by shade and shadow, mystery and mystique, and all that dwells in the darkness.

My name is Fay Elizabeth Short, and this is my website.