Rockymore to Baltimore

As a child I had to learn to like my last name. In grade school every time a teacher would say “Jamie Rockymore?” students snickered and I would roll my eyes, impatiently waiting for the teacher to call on the next person. I cringed when a teacher pronounced my last name wrong, which made matters worse! I admired common last names like Adams, Johnson, or even Williams. Who in their right mind would give someone a last name like ROCKYMORE?

Thanks to my grandparents who decided to have twelve children, I had a boatload of cousins with the same last name as mines. Growing up I got use to people telling me about my older family members, who appeared to make my last name great. In high school I’d stick my chest out or swing my hair to the side saying my last name with pride. People bragged about my older cousins and how they wouldn’t dare mess with me because of their reputation. I thought to myself hey it’s not so bad having this last name after all. 

When I got to college people thought the name Rockymore was cool. Too bad my personality didn’t match with it. I traded the nightlife the average college student would experience, for nights at the library studying for the next exam. I practically lived there, and it wasn’t because I was a genius. Classes were too difficult for me to understand. My major was psychology and at some point I asked myself why do I care about how people think? But after hours of studying and learning so much about Sigmund Freud and his theories, I graduated. Although I had a limited social life I managed to keep a few friends around.

Graduating with a bachelor’s degree in 2009 was a big step, and as every speaker said at commencement, it was the beginning of the rest of my life. So there I was, a young 21-year-old female planning my next step. I decided to take a bold step and hit the high road. I left the Steel City, the yellow bridges, and the famous Terrible Towel for a city that loved crabs and used something called “the beltway” to get around. It was a big change, a lot different from Pittsburgh. I had get used to seeing a company called Raven’s Taxi, confusing exits, and some place called The Fudgery where people sing while making fudge.

 I was engrossed with the Baltimore accent. No one said yinz, pop, or even hoagie for goodness sake, which made me feel like an outcast. Not only that, I had to learn how to pay so many bills with so little money. Matters became worse after the second day of training for a job I was hired to do. I was told the job I thought I had was no longer available. Thankfully, I saved enough money to last me a couple of months and make ends meet.

Two months later, I landed a position at Sheppard Pratt. I thought it was a cool job but every time I told someone where I worked, they looked at me as if they were surprise I was still alive. Needless to stay I am still working there, so you can say I am pretty good at what I do!

Fast-forward to 2011, I had my first car accident. It was a disaster, I mean I was scared, and didn’t know what to expect. It all happened so fast! When I seen the damages of my car I burst into tears and was nearly on the ground petrified! People came running and asking me if I was okay, it was obvious I wasn’t. Needless to say no one was hurt just two banged up replaceable cars. I was forced to get a new car, which happens to be where I met the love of my life who happens to be the man I am going to marry later this year.

Two years from now I will be approaching thirty and I must say my twenties were pretty interesting. There were a lot of lessons I learned and  risks I had to take in order to be where I am now. Other than my last name I love God, Tootsie (my dog), writing, dancing, singing in the car, and most importantly my Steelers. If I can entertain all of these things in one day I am one happy camper!