You know life can be quite hilarious at times. My middle name is one such time of life being hilarious. I was given the name Gale as my middle name after my mother, of course. I have told the story of my first name getting changed at 6 years old, but the story of my middle name is even crazier.
Do all kids hate their names? I don’t know if all kids do, but I certainly hated mine. The name Gale just seems so unimportant and how it comes off my tongue makes it seem more so. Just a simple, quick one syllable name placed right in the middle of my hated first name (until, that is I was given permission to change it which at that point I then loved my new name) and my equally hated last name. I guess I was a kid that could not be pleased. Always wanting something I didn’t have. Thus, the name Melissa Gale Smith.
Smith? The most common of surnames and I get stuck with it. I concluded that life for myself would be a struggle. Smith is so common. I didn’t know any people with that name that oozed success or popularity. When boys made an entrance on the scene most when told what my name was thought I was lying. Then, there is the stigma of the name being tied to blacksmiths, an occupation that produced things, like those created in the fire. Or something like that. As you may very well see, I did not spend a lot of time or thought on the name.
Getting back to Gale, my middle name. One day, I realized that Gale, not Gail, was a synonym for wind. That day changed history for me and I began to love my middle name. ‘She is like the wind’, I imagined others saying about me. You never know where she may go, carefree and loving every minute of life with Gale, it began to do wonders for my mental well-being. I did not know another person named after the wind and never would. Such a beautiful and special name was given to me and I adored the name Gale.
When looking up the meaning of gale, I found Gale to mean a very strong wind. Wow, I was also strong. Life was good. Until…
One day at the young and tender age of 28, I learned my whole life had been a lie. A little exaggeration placed here, but it’s my story so I can do that, right? The exaggeration is that my whole life had been a lie. It certainly had not been a lie, but the other parts were true. At age 28, I found that I had been misspelling my true name for years. Not only misspelling it, but believing it as well. My name was Gail, not Gale. Simple, unimportant, overlooked Gail.
Thankfully I recovered quickly and did not desend into depression as some might have. I cannot tell you where the name Gale came from or how I decided that was my name, but it happened and for 28 years I was none the wiser.
Today, looking back I realize kids will be kids and what tiks for one may only toc for another. But, they get through it somehow and life never misses a beat. I can honestly say today with pride that the name Gail fits me perfectly. I adore Gail and consider it an honor to be called Gail.
When God Speaks 
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