Launching 2.0
A few months back, I was talking with a friend about the metamorphosis I've been undergoing this year and my decision to return to my unmarried name. (The term "maiden name," while traditional, seems to me to have too much negative connotation to it - as though being a single woman were somehow inferior to being married, or that, heavens forbid, I were still a virginal young thing)
I knew I was no longer the young woman I'd been at 26 when I'd gotten married and taken my new husband's name. I was also no longer a wife. In some ways I almost wished I could concoct a new last name, to forge some new identity that would represent my newfound independence.
What I realized, upon reflection, was that choosing to take back my birth name was a way of reasserting myself, reestablishing a link to my family and its unique, made up name. There are only 9 of us with my last name here on this planet, as far as I know - my father, my mother, my brother, myself, my brother's wife, his three kids, and my dad's second wife. My dad's parents have passed away, and until his two boys have kids of their own, my collective is small indeed. I am 4 of 9.
Being a geek, and because I was talking to a fellow geek, I joked that I would be version 2.0 of myself. Version 1.0 was who I was from birth until I got married. Version 2.0 is this new me, and up until today, still, legally anyway, in beta mode. Separated from my ex, but the divorce not final, I've been hanging in a kind of limbo for a few months, like a butterfly still in its chrysalis.
And though I received news from the court that my divorce is final, I don't find myself rejoicing. It's a feeling of release, and relief, that the waiting is over. I am reflective, pausing to remember the good moments of my marriage (and there were many) and feel grateful for all that it brought me. I am also thinking of the future, and what it will truly mean to be 2.0. Like any software update, there may be bugs, crashes, or plain old bad code, but ultimately, I hope, my version 2.0 will be a definite improvement over past iterations.
I knew I was no longer the young woman I'd been at 26 when I'd gotten married and taken my new husband's name. I was also no longer a wife. In some ways I almost wished I could concoct a new last name, to forge some new identity that would represent my newfound independence.
What I realized, upon reflection, was that choosing to take back my birth name was a way of reasserting myself, reestablishing a link to my family and its unique, made up name. There are only 9 of us with my last name here on this planet, as far as I know - my father, my mother, my brother, myself, my brother's wife, his three kids, and my dad's second wife. My dad's parents have passed away, and until his two boys have kids of their own, my collective is small indeed. I am 4 of 9.
Being a geek, and because I was talking to a fellow geek, I joked that I would be version 2.0 of myself. Version 1.0 was who I was from birth until I got married. Version 2.0 is this new me, and up until today, still, legally anyway, in beta mode. Separated from my ex, but the divorce not final, I've been hanging in a kind of limbo for a few months, like a butterfly still in its chrysalis.
And though I received news from the court that my divorce is final, I don't find myself rejoicing. It's a feeling of release, and relief, that the waiting is over. I am reflective, pausing to remember the good moments of my marriage (and there were many) and feel grateful for all that it brought me. I am also thinking of the future, and what it will truly mean to be 2.0. Like any software update, there may be bugs, crashes, or plain old bad code, but ultimately, I hope, my version 2.0 will be a definite improvement over past iterations.