My name is the un-unique. I had the misfortune of being born in 1984 and given the oh-so common name of Sara. When you're a pretty, popular child with a common name, things are peachy and nice. When you're fat and strange, it becomes a burden.

At the high school I attended, there were between 3 and 5 girls named Sara(h) in every class I took. Since I deemed my middle name was unacceptable for use (it's Jean), I went through school being known as "the second fattest Sara(h)". In middle school, it was "Sara(h) with the terrible hair". I once had a friend ask a boy I liked out for me - whom accepted - only to rebuke me with disgust when he realized that I wasn't the Sara(h) from health class he expected to see. People laughed at me when they called out the name to another person and I turned around.

Naturally, I reacted by adopting psuedonyms. I cycled through many from age 14-20, until I met my husband and his entire family learned my name to be the nom du jour: "Mila". After that, it was stuck. I ended up learning that the whole world wasn't as full of Sara(h)s as school was, losing weight, and ganining confidence. I accept the my name now, though mostly because I don't have the $700 to change it.

I know that many a parent expects their kid to grow up to be beautiful and popular, but the truth is that the cards are stacked against him/her. Giving the child an overly common name is a surefire way to undermine their burgeoning sense of identity.

As though they hadn't screwed up one kid badly enough, my younger brother and sister are named Matthew and Jennifer.