maybe a little redundant, but here it is anyway.

[folded_faces]

If I had to put a mood or idea to my life lately it would have to be contemplative. I have been doing a lot of thinking about what was and what will be and if that actually changes anything about me. It probably doesn't, but I still can't help thinking about it.

Every now and then I catch myself wondering how I got to where I am. I'm not saying

Comments

[gekko]

Towards the end of my first marriage, I got so that I hated my last name. I hated it all the way through the divorce, as it was just a daily reminder that I wasn't free yet. I couldn't wait to get my "real' name back. His last name felt like a dirty rag that I was forced to wear for all the world to see. I vowed never to change my name again, for any guy. Apparently this bugs guys, which amazed me. I would go out with guys, and last names would come up in conversation. I would comment that I was going to keep my own name, no matter what. And that bothered the vast majority of them! "Oh, I could never marry a girl that didn't want my last name!"

When I met Scott, I told him the same thing. We decided to get married, and I decided to keep my name. He said, "cool". And somehow, sometime during all that, my mind changed. Perhaps because Scott felt (still feels) like the person I always should have been with and just fits me perfectly, I didn't even give the last name a second thought anymore. I was me, with Scott's last name, or without. So it was a moot point. I guess what I'm saying is that it's not the name, its the man who gives it to you.