What’s the story behind your nickname?

I’ve had a unique relationship with my name for as long as I can remember. For starters, my first name -Andria- is spelled differently than the more familiar “Andrea.” And to keep things interesting, my middle and last names also come with unexpected spellings: a twist on a common middle name and an extra letter in a lesser-known last name. To say I’ve come a long way in my relationship with my name would be an understatement.

My first real “name change” happened in first grade. That’s when I started going by “Andy.” Why? Maybe it was because my kindergarten crush who, of course, lived several states away, was named Andy. Maybe I was just tired of never finding my name on the little souvenir trinkets in stores. Or maybe it was something else entirely. Who knows, probably a mix of all of it. But, regardless of the reason, Andy was born.

Then came the dreaded haircut. A bowl-cut-style chop left my hair just below my ears. I hated it. I felt awkward and uncomfortable just being myself; at school, at the store, in public. A few years later, I finally won a small battle… I convinced those around me to change the spelling from Andy to Andi. That one little letter gave me a surprising amount of comfort and confidence. Slowly, I began to feel more like myself. I even earned the nickname “Andi with an ‘I’” from teachers, coaches, and friends. Eventually, it was shortened to just “A.”

Still, the journey was far from over. In fact, the years that followed brought more confusion and frustration. I wanted to go by Andi, but asking people to use it felt intimidating. At my first teaching job, I went by Andria for almost five years! Andi only started to resurface because my best friend worked with me and naturally used it. Eventually, others caught on.

As my teaching career evolved, so did my “name story.” Some places called me Ms. Andria, others Ms. Andi, and still others insisted on Mrs. Mills. It felt like I was constantly shape-shifting trying to adapt to whatever name the environment called for.

Then something shifted.

At a work conference, I attended a keynote speech by author Jason Kotecki. His talk was powerful, meaningful, and inspiring. Afterward, I bought one of his books and waited in line to get it signed. When I got to the front, he asked for my name. I gave him the short version of my lifelong struggle… “My mom cursed me with a spelling-nightmare of a name,” I joked and spelled it out for him.

He smiled, signed the book, handed it back to me. I thanked him and walked away. But when I opened the book and read what he wrote, my heart stopped.

“c w/ new ii”

It brought tears to my eyes. I looked back at him. He gave me a simple wink and a knowing smile and turned to the next person in line.

From that moment on, I started giving less weight to which name I used. When I volunteer, I often go by Andi. Sometimes I go with the trend of whatever group I’m with. But what I’ve learned; what I’m still learning, is that who I am matters far more than what people call me.

My worth isn’t tied to how my name is spelled or what version someone chooses to use. It’s tied to the relationships I build, the work I do, and the way I show up. Especially with children, what matters most is the connection we create and the example I set—not the letters stitched onto a name tag.