Laura

I am getting divorced.

This has been a big part of what has been keeping me from blogging more here lately. That word, that label - "divorced" has so much power behind it, it's almost knocked the wind out of me a few times. While I normally find writing therapeutic, I've found myself dreading opening the doors to my feelings, my past, my heart.

While I won't post specifically about the details of my divorce, I will say this: it could be a lot worse. There is no animosity and I can truly say we will remain friends after a period of grieving and growing. We are working together towards a collaborative divorce, rather than a malicious one. I think it's important to share this with the world because the word "divorce" brings to mind custody battles, long drawn out disputes over who-gets-what and public humiliation. This is not the case for us and we are both very proud of that.

The topic of my divorce here is applicable to the theme of my blog in such a powerful way, I feel that it would be foolish of me to not examine it. I say this because, since we've made our divorce public, I've decided to change the label I've had for the longest time in my life; my name.

I changed my name when I got married. I decided to take my husband's name for a few reasons, some traditional, some personal. One, my unmarried name is rather common - I have three brothers, so it's not like the family name won't be "passed along" by my other siblings, since at least one of them is bound to have children. Two, my husband has an extremely uncommon last name, so going from a very common sir-name to a name that perhaps less than 50 people in the US can claim as their own, was appealing. Three, I was in love and we planned to have children and I would want my family to have one name. I did keep my unmarried name by making it my middle name and I decided not to hyphenate because I found my particular combination bulky and confusing.

The legal process of changing one's name is not easy. First, I needed my marriage license, which can take a couple months to process. Then, I had to take a morning off work, go to the Social Security office in my county with my marriage license and the proper forms completed ahead of time. There was a line before the place even opened up but once I got to speak with someone, it wasn't too much of a hassle. However, once I received my new Social Security card, then came the lengthy process of notifying all the people and places I do business with; my employer, my bank, my creditors, the DMV, student loan providers, utility providers, even the credit reporting agencies themselves. Some of these places required multiple forms of documentation: my new SS card, my driver's license and my marriage license. Because I also changed my middle name, it was often confusing because some places only changed my last name and kept my original middle name. So, technically there are three versions of my name attached to my social security number. Having worked at a bank, this can be a real problem when it comes to getting approved for things like a mortgage, because my credit report could feasibly show me having twice or three times the amount of debt than I actually have.

All practical issues aside, the strangest part of changing your name is what happens emotionally. It is a rite of passage in this way - marriage in general is of course, but not only do you have this completely new lifestyle, but you also have a new identity - your "married" identity and a brand new name to go with it. To remind you every day that you are part of a unit, a group, a tribe - a family. That takes some getting used to. Perhaps I will at a later time, examine the labels "Married" and "Single" when it's not so raw.

So after having gone through that process both logistically, financially and emotionally, I have to look down that road once again because I've made the choice to go back to my unmarried name. Some women who have had children often keep their married name after a divorce, but since we had no children, I see no reason for me to have a daily reminder of this painful life change. I've already started using my unmarried name informally.

I find myself torn about when to use my legal name and when to use my unmarried name. When I sign for packages at work, the UPS guy makes me spell my last name. Is that a legal requirement that I sign my real name before I change it? Should I request a new email address at work already? I changed the system so that when I send an email to someone, my unmarried name appears in the "from" line. This confused a lot of my co-workers - some people thought I got married - so I had to tell them "Nope, the opposite. I'm getting unmarried." I created a facebook account recently and since they require real names, I decided to use my unmarried name. Some of my friends have started introducing me to people with my unmarried name. However, when I sign checks or bills or get mail I still see my married name.

But even in this gray area, this mid-point between names and marital status, the label that I still have is my first name. I was named for my great aunt Laura Belle, except my middle name was (and will be again) Elizabeth. I was often called Laura Beth growing up. Laura is latin for laurus meaning "laurel" or "crown of laurel leaves." Laurel crowns were often given to victors of competition. According to this Wikipedia article, the "Lauraceae or Laurel Family has over 2000 species world-wide" and Mountain Laurel is the state flower of my home state Pennsylvania; the flowers often appears on the plant in June, my birth month. I've always liked my first name because I feel it has a timeless quality about it - it was a very common name, but not overused like Ashley or Jennifer. It is one label that is almost a non-label. It doesn't really say much about who I am, but it's been with my all my life. It has been whispered to me when I needed comfort, and often shouted by my mother or father when I've been mischievous. It is as much a part of my identity as my face or my birthmark on my left shin, but it does not hold me back or offer any preconceived notions. When I meet someone new, I do say the words "Hello, I'm Laura" and it is the truth. The holiness of the phrase "I AM" resonates along with the sounds and accompanying written symbols for the sounds; it brings to mind Rene Descartes "I think therefore I am".... Laura. There is history, strength and experience in Laura.

So while the seas are shifting when it comes to my other names, I am finding comfort and holding fast to a label that I love.

Hello, I am Laura.