We all have parts of ourselves we hold back—a secret nickname, a childhood fear, or, in my case, my middle name. Growing up, “Elaine” always felt like a private detail, something reserved for family and official paperwork. I never liked the way it sounded, never shared it with friends or colleagues. It was a small secret, but it was mine.
So when my new coworker, Jenna, called me “Elaine” in the break room one Monday morning, I froze. She slid a coffee across the table, smiled, and said, “You look tired, Elaine—rough weekend?” The mug slipped in my hands. I had never told anyone at work my middle name. Not even on paperwork. I always signed everything as “Lauren E. Collins.” No one had ever asked, and I never offered.
The Chill of Unwanted Familiarity
I tried to laugh it off. “That’s… not a name I go by. How did you know?”
Jenna just grinned, waving it away as if I’d forgotten mentioning it myself. “Oh, I don’t know, maybe I heard you say it before.” But the more I pressed, the vaguer her answers became. All day, my thoughts spun: Had I said too much after one of those late nights at the office? Had someone from HR slipped up? Or was it just a weird, lucky guess?
The next day, the mystery deepened. Jenna complimented my choice of favorite book—one I’d never mentioned at work, but that was buried deep in an old social media post from years ago. That’s when I started to realize: she knew more than she should.
The Search for Answers
That night, I scrolled through my privacy settings and searched for my name online. Sure enough, my old Facebook profile, inactive for years, was still visible. My college graduation announcement—complete with “Lauren Elaine Collins”—was out there for anyone with curiosity and a search bar.
I felt exposed in a way I never had before. Not just because Jenna had found these things, but because she brought them into my present life without asking. It wasn’t the information itself—it was the boundary she’d crossed, the sense of being seen in ways I hadn’t invited.
Setting New Boundaries
I decided to talk to Jenna. The next time we were alone, I said gently, “Jenna, I know it might sound odd, but my middle name is something I keep private. I noticed you’ve mentioned things about me that aren’t common knowledge. It makes me uncomfortable.”
She looked a little embarrassed, but she apologized. “I didn’t mean to be weird. I just like to know about the people I work with. I’ll respect your privacy from now on.”
And she did. But I also took the opportunity to clean up my digital footprint, making sure that what was private stayed private.
What I Learned
It’s easy to forget how much of our lives lives online, scattered across old posts and forgotten profiles. I learned that small boundaries matter, and it’s okay to speak up when someone crosses them—intentionally or not. Most importantly, I realized the importance of taking control of my story, deciding which details to share, and which to keep just for me.
Jenna and I found a comfortable rhythm after that—a little less familiarity, a lot more respect.
Final Thought
If someone calls you by a name—or knows a detail—you’ve never shared, don’t brush it off. Your privacy is yours to protect, and it’s always okay to draw the line where you need it.
