At seven? I probably would have chosen something that came with bows and ruffles, such as Belinda, Melissa, or Rebecca, which would have been more aspirational than descriptive for a little girl with pigtails who climbed trees and loved mud. I’m okay with the name I got, though.
No idea at seven years old. I turned seven in second grade. My name was popular so maybe my real name. Maybe my favorite aunt’s name. I loved her and I thought she was beautiful.
I liked the names Melissa, Michelle, and Pamela, and names with M’s in general, when I was growing up, but I didn’t know anyone with those names when I was seven. I always thought Elizabeth and Stephanie were pretty too.
That’s been my favorite name since I can remember, and it’s my brother’s nickname for me. When he and I were young children, he decided that I deserve the prettiest name ever, so he started calling me “Emily.”
I don’t know about age 7, but I do know that at age 6, I briefly wanted to have been named Jack. Jack Black. Seemed cool. I think I changed my mind by age 7, though.
Trader Horn or Sanders of the River. Or perhaps that “Very Unique Senor Zorro” . Those guys had it going on. Especially Zorro. A freind to the weak, and the poor and the meek.
Probably would have been John. I was raised catholic and you pick a name (I forget the term) at some point, and I picked John…and I remember really liking that name for some reason. I don’t even remember why.