I cannot remember exactly the time but it was just before I moved into secondary school so I would be in my early "11's" All my life I had suffered dreams, or nightmares, of confusion. Suddenly they became more frequent,more intense and more disturbing.
The dreams centred around either a family scene, typically a party with lots of other kids involved, or more often a school scene. In either case activities would be going on where everyone was being placed into groups ... except me. Everyone had come prepared wearing the right clothes or carrying the appropriate activity tools... except me. Everyone was busy talking to each other ... except me. I would always be on the edge of the group, ignored by the other children, confused as to what I should be doing and unable to get the attention of the organiser. These dreams would be so intense that the feeling of being confused would persist throughout the day, often getting me into trouble at school as I would spend most of the day with little or no concentration.
Not always though. Sometimes the dreams would end with me happily in a group, happily knowing what I had to do. Only one problem. I was dressed as a girl and my name was Jennifer. Where the name came from I have no idea. No one in my family has that name and no friend had that name.
These dreams ceased`as I moved through puberty and the memories lay undisturbed in the back of my mind for decades, until the Gender dysphoria resurfaced. One of my first acts of giving way to the need to express myself as a female was to take myself off to the boudoir and the lovely Miss Jodie Lynn. The boudoir offers a fabulous makeover and dressing service and all I wanted to do was to stare into a mirror and view myself as a woman.
As the make-up went on so coco the clown started to appear. Jodie, chattering away, was asking me what Femme name I wanted and we were going through all the choices when She asked me to close my eyes, it was time to complete the picture. With eyes closed I could feel the hair being fitted and combed and then it was open eyes time. THe image in front of me was electrifying. Staring back at me was a mature woman, the woman I wanted to be. I was almost speechless. Jodie continued to press me to choose a Femme name, but I couldn't concentrate, that image, especially the hair, was absorbing all my attention. I had to find out where I could get something like it. Eventually Jodie gave up and went out to the back storeroom returning with the box the hair had been packed in.
"OK " She said, "the manufacturer is Rene of Paris and the style is .... Jennifer. Oh, and the colour is chestnut brown".
In that instant my name was chosen for me. Jennifer had met Jennifer. Of course with a little bit of modification. I do not like double-barrelled names and "Miss Chestnut-Brown" doesn't sound quite right so it was shortened to "Jennifer Brown".
So it is I must be one of the few people wandering around wearing their name on top of their head.
Oh and the spelling: Well, Joan, my wife, is very keen on equines ( big 4 legged thingy's that dump manure everywhere). She once kept a donkey. I learnt from Her (Joan, not the donkey - He's a Him called Harry) that a male donkey is called a Jack and a female one a Jenny. Now, whilst I quite often make an ass of myself, and to others I am often a pain in the ass, no way was I going to call myself after one, so Jenny was replaced by Jenni.
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