Here, my name is Kitty.
It started with my master, although he only helped bring it to the surface. I’ve tried other “names,” submissive, slave, playmate. Some work, some don’t. Some work circumstantially.
In my other life, my Real name is one I’ve always loved. Growing up, I thought it was a “lovely and unusual” name, a phrase I read in Rebecca. I appreciated the names in that book, as they played an unusually large part in the novel. The narrator never says her name, only indirectly offering it when someone tells her, “You have a lovely and unusual name.” While it is more common now, growing up nobody had my name. (Except cats. I shared my name with a a lot of cats.)
I feel a bit different when called different names. Kitty mellows me. Calling me by my own name pleases me. Calling me “honey” or “sweetie” (with very rare exceptions, you know who you are) annoys me. If you use the alternative spelling of my name, I might think less of you. Calling me certain names will put me into subspace, to the extent that I may have trouble coming if I’m not degraded in a specific manner.
Do not feel bad for wanting to conceal a private name between you and a partner. Do not worry about making up superflous names. Do what pleases you, because, of all things in life, your name is yours to do with as you like.
Names are so fascinating, and sometimes we give ourselves our own name which feels more of an accurate representation of our identity 🙂