My children were born during a deeply religious phase in my life. My partner and I adhered to a significant faith that insisted on giving our kids names inspired by saints. True believers typically place those names front and center, rather than tucking them away in the middle. So, we opted for a straightforward approach: triple names, with two family names at the end, while focusing solely on the first name. All three of my sons ended up with distinctly religious names.
Yet, I find myself wishing I could change two of them.
I Adore My Oldest Son’s Name, Despite Its Religious Roots
My eldest son has a truly unique name: St. Blaise, which was ranked #977 when he was born. We’ve yet to encounter another, and while we often need to spell it out for others, it’s a simple, one-syllable name that doesn’t immediately scream “overly religious.” If I could rename him, I would still choose this name. I love it too much. It fits him perfectly, and when people hear it, they often smile and say, “Yep, that’s him!”
I’m Not Opposing Religious Names Entirely
I’m not entirely against religious names; my issue lies within our shift in beliefs. Back when we named our sons, we felt it was essential for them to carry religious names. Now, however, I no longer hold that conviction, and I regret those choices. It’s not as simple as saying, “You should have considered that earlier.” No one anticipates leaving their faith, especially one as deeply ingrained. When we did step away, we were left shocked and directionless for a while.
Our current beliefs don’t matter much, nor does our perspective on that particular faith (which is admittedly not very friendly). This isn’t about criticizing religion; many of my friends still practice it. Right now, I’m simply regretting how that faith influenced my kids’ names.
My Second Son’s Name Has Troubling Associations
When we chose the name Augustine for our second son, we overlooked some of the more negative aspects of St. Augustine’s legacy, particularly his views on women. While we always shortened it to August, which I adore, his full name carries an unwanted religious weight, often mispronounced and mistaken for a girl’s name. If given a choice today, I would opt for something more relaxed, perhaps a free-spirited name like Ember, inspired by his birth month, November.
Regrets About My Youngest Son’s Name
If I could take back just one name, it would be my youngest son’s. His name is Simon Peter, a combination that resonates with the most religious connotations. While the name used to remind me of a noble character from “Lord of the Flies,” it now feels like a burden. It shouts, “WE LOVE THE LORD,” which makes me cringe as I identify more as agnostic these days. If I could do it all over again, I would choose something far less religious—maybe a name like Moon or River that reflects nature.
While my family may have moved away from that faith, the names of my sons remain a lasting reminder, a legacy that they’ll carry with them forever. And each time I hear an interesting baby name, my regret deepens.
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