Names play a hugely important role in our lives. They represent our identity and individuality, and they can connect us with family, culture and history. It's even said that your name can influence the career path you choose.

We come across many names every day, but how often do we think closely about them? Read on, as some of our amazing RELX people share the stories behind their names.

I am Brazilian, and my mother is from Manaus, the capital of Amazonia. Her whole family is from the North. We share a family name, Pucu, that is exclusively from our family. If you know anyone that has this last name, it is from my family. The origin behind this family name is actually a mystery: we know it is a Tupi-Guarani word, that means "long" and “tall” and there is even a river called Pucu in the North region.

But there is a story that has been passed through some generations, from my great grandparents. They said that one of our ancestors worked as a merchandiser with indigenous people, and he was very tall. The people from the indigenous community used to call him Pucu, and he decided to take it as a last name. And since then it was incorporated within our own family.

I am very proud of my family name due to its uniqueness, origin and the mystery behind it. My name is pronounced: E-LEE-ZA PU-CÚ. Hear my name

I’m from Spain so Planells is my first surname and Noguera is my second surname.

The name Xumeu is typical from Ibiza. It originally derives from Bartholomew (Bartomeu in Catalan). In Majorca it’s common to see a person actually be called Tomeu (dropping the initial “Bar”). The version from Ibiza consists of just replacing the “To” by “Xu”. The name Xumeu used to be very common but it has stopped being used. So it’s a pretty unique name in the world nowadays, because its origin is just a small island and it’s not even currently used there. In fact, people in mainland Spain struggle to get it right. The pronunciation is something like “shoe-meh-oo”, but I’ve heard so many different ways of trying to say it that I wouldn’t be able to call them all out. In any case, I’m happy to help people trying it. 

When I grab a sandwich with my colleagues at work and they ask me for my name, I normally say “just write X”. They normally look at me weirdly but it usually works out.

The two characters “SHU MAN 舒曼” represent the hope of my parents for me to have a comfortable and happy life, with a gentle and delicate personality. However, when my parents completed my household registration, it was accidentally changed to “SHU MAN 书慢”. This has the same pronunciation, but with totally different characters. The English translation of it is “book” and “slow”.

When I was at school my teachers and classmates would joke and ask me why I'm not called Wang Shu Kuai (Kuai means fast).

I have thought about changing my name, but my mother said that a name is just a symbol, and you are who you are. Now I prefer my colleagues to call me Sami because its simple and easy to remember.

Typically you will meet a lot of women named “Brooke” but not “Brooks”. If you do meet someone called “Brooks” it’s usually someone who identifies as a man. So all my life I have either been called, “Brooke” or people will assume I am a man, until they meet me in person. I’m from North Carolina, so it’s common for mothers to name their children after their maiden name. My mother’s maiden name was Brooks, so it’s really special that my full name represents both sides of my family. It was also really cool growing up going to family reunions and seeing, “The Brooks Family Reunion” on huge banners, almost made me feel like a mini celebrity. 

I typically introduce myself as, “Hi, my name is Brooks, not Brooke. Brooks with an S”. I really can’t stand when someone calls me Brook/Brooke, so I like to make sure people know it’s plural. One of the funniest memories I have is my senior year of high school during an awards ceremony, a presenter kept calling me “Brooke” and the entire auditorium added the “S” to correct the presenter. It made me feel really special because a class of 400 students knew how I felt about my name, it was awesome.

I have an unusual name that many people struggle to pronounce correctly – it is pronounced “rag-nee_ omm-ann-ee” (so it is pronounced almost exactly as you would spell it) but people mispronounce my name so often that I honestly don’t mind terribly much; in any case I must admit that sometimes I too am not sure how to correctly pronounce unusual names that other people have! For me the important thing is that my name is spelt correctly. Not being able to pronounce an unusual name is completely understandable but misspelling does seem rather lazy and disrespectful.

The origin of my first name is Scandinavian - I am half Swedish. The precise meaning is uncertain as it is a very old name (it is pre-Christian) but it has an association with the Gods of my ancestors (it may mean something like “mighty deity”). Many people think it is exotic but it is closely related to the name “Ragnell” which was in popular use in England until the late medieval period. The origin of my very English surname is thought to have evolved (perhaps in France) from the Viking name “Omundsen” (meaning son of Omund).

My name anchors me to my Scandinavian ancestors, which is why when I had a son he was given a Scandinavian first name as well.

I am a trans woman. Consequently, I was in the lucky situation to freely choose my name. I started my transition in private in summer of 2022 and in the office world at Elsevier in November the same year. I had to find a new (female) name for the new me.

So, I sat down and thought about what names I like. A couple of names came to mind and the interesting part to tell here is that these shared the same melody, i.e., something that ended with an I or E followed by an A. I also wanted a name that is short and is not frequently used. The reason for the latter criteria was that I wanted people to approach me without any prejudice based on my name, e.g., by their experience with persons sharing the same name.

I came up with a list of names that fulfilled these criteria. For each of these names, I researched their individual heritage and meaning. When I came across Elea, it was like an epiphany. There are many different meanings and interpretations available. However, one of the most common meanings is "the different one" (German: die Andersartige). This was perfect. From that day on I have been called by the name Elea.

My name is more unique than unusual. In Indian culture, every name has a meaning. My name means “magician”. I didn’t know the meaning of my name for quite some time (till I turned 18 I think) but for some reason, I’ve always been enchanted by magicians and magic in general, even before I knew what my name meant. Needless to say, Harry Potter is my all-time favourite series. 

I like the fact that my name is unique and that most people (even in my culture) have never heard of it. People pronounce it wrong 90% of the time. Most people in the US think it rhymes with “soup” and pronounce it accordingly. It’s actually pronounced like “saw”.

My manager once corrected our CEO on how to pronounce my name correctly. I didn’t think I had the guts to do it but he did. In my previous job, I worked in consulting and there was a client who always got my name wrong. I corrected him EVERY time until he said it correctly. 

My father’s family is from Pakistan and the Barakzai tribe came from further north, in Afghanistan. I also read the name may have originated as far north as Kyrgyzstan. It is a tribal name sometimes spelt Barakzi or Barakzoy, and the Barakzai tribe were the rulers of Afghanistan from around 1826-1978 when the Taliban took control.

I was a teacher for 10 years so the kids often got tongue-tied with my surname; Barakazi, Barazaki, Barracuda, and Berkazoid were amongst the variations. I made sure “Mr B” was an acceptable alternative to make life easier.

Very often when someone’s calling out names and then there’s a long pause - I’ve assumed it was me next and am usually right (My graduation was one example…). It really is just said as it’s spelt.

My given name is “Maria Rocel”, but I preferred to be called “Rocel”. I was born and raised in the Philippines and my given name is a reflection of my cultural heritage. The Philippines was under the Spanish and American rule before fully gaining its independence in the late 1940s, and our naming convention is a combination of the traditional Spanish and anglicized names. As a predominantly Catholic country, it is not unusual for people to have a Spanish and/or biblical name. For Filipino women, it is common to have “Maria” as a given name. To make the name unique (in my family, my sister is also a “Maria”), a second name is given. My parents chose an English sounding name for my second given name, “Rocel” (pronounced “ro-sel”) which is a combination of their names (“Rose” and “Celio”). Combining parents’ names to create a unique name is also a custom in the Philippines.

“Maria” is often abbreviated as “Ma.”, probably for expediency of writing multiple names. Again, not unusual in my country. Thus I was taught to write my name as “Ma. Rocel” growing up. Until I reached college when the university registrar won’t accept the abbreviation and advised me to use what was in my birth certificate. Since then, I keep a notarized affidavit that says “Maria Rocel” and “Ma. Rocel” are the same person.

Moving to the US, first time acquaintances often mispronounce my name as “ro-shel”. I totally understand since my name is uncommon here. I have to spell my preferred name 99.9% of the time when asked for it. When ordering at coffee shops, I provide “Maria” instead to escape the hassle of spelling. Although one time a barista still misspelled it as “Mariah”.

Above all these, I still like my name and wouldn’t want it any other way. I’m sure a lot of Filipinos can relate to my story.

My name is Teodora Todorova, but everyone calls me Teddy. I am originally from Bulgaria, but the name Teodora is Greek, and its etymology means “gift of god”. Quite humble, right? My name means a lot to me, as I was named after my late grandmother Todora. It’s common practice to name babies after their grandparents in my home country. I started introducing myself largely as Teddy because everyone knows that. If people ask me to repeat, I always say “Teddy, like a bear”. It usually gets people smiling, which is always great. 

My first name sometimes gets an “h” after the T, and people are convinced my first and last name are identical…they are not. At Elsevier I have a lovely short email, because in my previous company my email address was over 30 letters so that wasn’t fun to spell or type.

My first name is not special at all, however the combination of my last names is quite unique. Beishuizen is my Dutch husband’s name, Petru is from my father and Ștefănescu is from my mother, the latter two Romanian. Combined names are still quite rare in Romania and they were even more so when I was growing up. In fact, “that can’t be right” was the standard reaction I got when people learned my name. With a third surname, the combinations become even more rare. So there’s a very good chance that I am the only person in the world with this name.

I didn’t always like my name. I thought about changing it many times but didn’t, mainly because of bureaucracy. Moving abroad only meant that, on top of everything else, people couldn’t pronounce my name properly. After a while it started to become amusing rather than annoying, and slowly I started appreciating it more and more. When I got married, I was presented with a piece of paper that required only a tick and a signature: how did I want the Dutch state to address me? I picked an option that would not make life easier for anyone, including myself - to add my husband’s name to my own. Part of me was laughing, for all those who thought my name was difficult, let me see you pronounce it now. The other part of me thought it was nice that my husband, our sons and I are the Beishuizen family, which is something that I never got to say growing up. I respond to any of the three names or combination thereof, just call me whatever you find easiest. Do you often mix Cristiana and Cristina? Just call me Cris. I have made peace with my name and today I don’t care anymore who thinks it is “right”, it’s right for me.

My name is John Cooper, which is a really common name in the UK. Despite my name being so common, it’s still a great name to have.

The John Cooper I am named after was an engineering genius who became famous in the 1950’s as the owner of the Cooper Formula 1 Team, which won World Championships in 1959 and 1960, with cars driven by the legendary Jack Brabham. John Cooper went on to invent the Mini Cooper in 1961, which is still popular today as a BMW Mini Cooper. The very top model is of course the ‘John Cooper’ edition, with my namesake’s signature written on each car.

The story of how I got this name follows these automotive lines… my dad was an apprentice mechanic growing up in the 1950’s, and would have watched the Cooper Formula 1 cars win the F1 World Championships. He lived in Surrey, close to John Cooper’s workshop, and later went on to work at Jack Brabham’s workshop. John Cooper was a household name in those days, so when I was born, there was only one choice for the son of a car-mad mechanic.

John Cooper is quite a common name in the UK, and often there will be a few people with the same name in a big company. So far, I’m the only one in RX. It’s a special name because it’s so familiar that a lot of people I meet will think that they’ve already met me before.

The name I was given when I was born was Bakyt Ayupova. Bakyt means happiness in the Kazakh language, where my parents come from. Bakyt was the name of my uncle, my father’s little brother, who sadly passed away in a motorcycle accident.

My mum wasn’t happy with the decision to name me after someone who passed away but back then and also culturally, mother in laws had a strong influence, so I was named Bakyt to pay respects to my grandmother’s late son. Although it is considered a unisex name, Bakyt was 'softened' to Bakulia.

I was born in Moscow and had to explain my name and its meaning to Russian kids who had no idea how to pronounce it, so I really didn’t like my name. Migrating to Australia as a teen I had to go through it all over again. Although the meaning is beautiful, the name always sounded harsh. When I got married I chose to change to my marital name which is one of the most common in the western world, Walker. At the same time I changed my first name to Bakulia, a name that sounds as it’s written and a name that all my friends know me by.

Names are part of our identity, I love that my name represents my roots but it wasn’t always the easiest being an immigrant twice. I am grateful of the welcoming environment at LexisNexis and love seeing diversity celebrated.

As a side note, my kids now have easy to spell names and I did give my son his uncle’s name as a middle name (my husband’s brother who sadly also passed away but I was happy to commemorate him).

My name is Lalitya…and the vast majority of people cannot pronounce it correctly- it is ‘Laa-lith-yaaa’, which can be very hard for most of our colleagues and clients.

My name means soft and tender, and comes from a play on the Indian name Lalita, which is very common (and very often mixed up with mine). From childhood, I have been accustomed to responding to anything that starts with a Laaa as I know it’s my name that’s coming. Learning more about inclusion, I feel that my name does matter and nowadays I make an effort to help people say my name correctly rather than offer my nickname.

During my first internship in the UAE, I worked with an engineer from the UK office for a full week. When he returned to the UK, he mentioned to my then-employer that he found ‘Laetitia’ very engaging and hard working to which my manager said, “who’s Laetitia?” This continued, with me receiving sometimes privileged communications meant for Laetitia.

How would you pronounce Kui Hong Seto? That's my legal name, pronounced KWEE HONG SEE-toe 司徒鉅雄.

Growing up, I went by the name Kui for short. However, many people struggled to pronounce it correctly. As I entered my 30s, I felt a strong urge to connect with my Asian heritage, tracing back to my parents' immigration from Hong Kong. Thanks to my bilingual fiancée, now my wife, I discovered that my name (Kui Hong 鉅雄) holds a powerful meaning - it translates to 'Giant Hero' or great/huge and powerful. This newfound understanding deepened my appreciation for my name. It truly reflects who I am as I constantly strive for GIANT goals and aspire to make a positive impact and embody the qualities of a HERO - courage, selflessness and a strong sense of responsibility.

Due to the uniqueness of the name Kui, it often sparks curiosity and prompts people to inquire about its meaning. It has become an interesting conversation starter for me. One thing that slightly bothered me about my name was the realization I had after completing college. I noticed that when I used my legal name on my resume, I received fewer responses after submitting job applications compared to when I used my nickname, Bobby Seto. To improve my chances of finding career opportunities, I decided to make a change and edited my resume, which led to more calls. It's fascinating how a name can affect opportunities. Over the past decade, I've developed a greater appreciation for my name and fully embraced it, using my legal name in my day-to-day life.

Many people have difficulty guessing how to pronounce my name. Siobhán is Gaelic (Irish), as are my parents, who met in London after they had both emigrated from Ireland. I like having an ‘uncommon’ name and find it strange if I’m in an environment with somebody else of the same name.

That’s a ‘fada’ over the ‘a’, not an accent. A fada is a long vowel and although many will pronounce it “Shiv-orn” it is correctly pronounced by elongating the ‘a’. I don’t tend to take offence or lecture people on the exact pronunciation. I find it comical that some will question “how on earth can ‘bh’ be pronounced ‘v’” and I ask them to consider the English ‘ph’ pronounced as an ‘f’ equivalent, eg: Philippa!

When responding to emails many will assume my surname is my first name and respond ‘Dear Leonard’… Other people have actually argued with me about how my name doesn’t make any sense - as if I don’t know how to say my own name….