Naturally, as soon as I saw that ominous line on the registration form, my mind began racing. About 5 seconds later, I opted to leave the line blank. I was too busy worrying about my first belly dancing class to invest the time and energy I knew I would want to invest when it came to choosing a dancing name. And honestly, I didn't know how long my foray into belly dancing would last. Maybe I wouldn't need to worry about it and I could go back to figuring out what to name my 18th century constable in vampire infested London. (That one is a real character.)
Fast forward to several months later and I realized it was probably time to give myself a belly dancing name. When I was asked to join a performing troupe I knew I really wanted to commit. Dance had become such a major part of my life and in a way, I did feel reborn. Rising from the ashes kind of reborn. But every time I tried to come up with something, it just seemed off somehow. None of those gorgeous Arabic or Greek names seemed to fit my personality either onstage or off. I was leaning toward something Nordic, but again I couldn't seem to find anything that fit. I did find one name that I ended up loving...but it seemed a better match for my daughter. I asked advice from my literary friends and was given some great suggestions, but the ones I really liked were in use locally.
And then, it fell into my lap: Disa. Norse for "spirited." In Greek, it means "double or twice" which makes me think of both my daughter (who is very much a little double of me) and my life after divorce. The root of the name, Dis, is Nordic for goddess. And also the name of Thorin Oakenshield's sister, (the mother of Fili and Kili) for all you fellow Tolkien fans. That tickled me right down to my nerdy little Hobbit toes. But the best part is that my teacher's name is Heidi. So, the last part of her name gets incorporated into my dancer name. Disa. It is perfect for me. And it came when I least expected to find it. So I guess the moral of my story is, the right dancer name will just come to you. How did you come by your dancer name?