The spelling of my name has caused me much grief for as long as I can remember.
As you may or may not know, in 1976, while glancing through the TV Guide, my mother saw the spelling of the Bionic Woman's name and really liked it. I was born in August of that same year.
My name is Jaime. J-A-I-M-E.
Not J-A-M-I-E, like everyone else.
And that is where the grief comes in.
When my mother enrolled me in Kindergarten, the school secretary told her that I was going to have trouble with the spelling of my name for a long time. She was right.
In first grade, my weird teacher told me that my name was spelled the same way as the French contraction for "I love" - j'aime. Kind of cool.
In high school Spanish, I learned that my name is basically "James" in espanol. And since then, I've had many Spanish speaking people call me Jaime (pronounced "hi-may" with the deep throaty "h" sound) upon reading my name. Not so cool.
Very rarely does anyone spell it "correctly." And just when I thought I had Freedom Christian trained my way, we went and hired a staff member with the alternate spelling and thus undid all my hard work.
My closest friends and loved ones call me "Jaim." They just drop the "e" altogether. And today, I realized that it's so much easier to write "Jaim" with my particular spelling and still get the meaning across! I often try to do that with a dear friend of mine who has the same name/alternate spelling and I always delete it because it looks like I'm calling her "Jam."
How awesome is it to be Jaime today!