What's in a name?

'What's in a name? that which we call a rose

By any other name would smell as sweet;
So Romeo would, were he not Romeo call'd,
Retain that dear perfection which he owes
Without that title. Romeo, doff thy name,
And for that name which is no part of thee
Take all myself.'

It's a big question. Do you retain your married name when you divorce?

My initial reaction was to keep it. I don't want a different surname to my children, especially when this particular separation has been so tough on them. J in particular.

As time went on though... I realised that I couldn't keep it.

I always hated my married name. Without divulging what it is, let's just say it is DULL. When I picture a person with my name, I see an older woman (aged 60+) who is in an incredibly boring job. Like a librarian. My first name is already unusual for my generation and more common for older women. Coupled with my married surname, and it becomes that of a particularly uninteresting older woman. Perhaps the type that complains about the 'youth of today' and 'those twitter things'. 

I don't see myself that way. Perhaps a year or two ago, I did. I had accepted my middle-agedness, fully prepared to complain about hot flushes, modern music and 'kids these days have no respect'. I had given up on my looks and my confidence. I had given up on my sex life. I had given up on 'happily ever after'. 

I've learned now that I have a lot of life left in me. I'm not 40 yet; admittedly not young, but I'm not an old woman yet. My maiden name has a more youthful feel to it, so I'm taking it back. And I'm keeping it.

My kids both want to change their own surnames to my maiden name. J has been asking for at least 8 months now, and surprisingly, her father has agreed. Legally, you need the consent of both parents when they are under 16. J is now in the process of legally changing her surname. S has asked for it, but I am discouraging her for now.

I didn't realise that the name was such a big thing to J. That was one of the reasons she was avoiding school so much. Every time a teacher called out her full name - either through taking attendance or through general education - she was reminded. She was reminded of a father that no longer wants to see her. She was reminded of the link to a man who has publicly rejected her, and dismissed her needs. Her school have changed her name on their system, at her request. 

I realised that I feel quite strongly about my name, too. Not to the same extent as J, but certainly I relate to a great deal of it. My married name is a reminder of the many years I wasted - not just on a man, but on an entire family. I lost my youth to that name. I lost myself to it. 

J had a bad week again last week. She confessed to frequent suicidal thoughts and urges to self-harm again. We had a review with her psychologist, who recognised the downturn in her mood. On exploring this further, it transpired that the decline in her mental state began when she had received a message from her father, offering to take her camping with his new 'family'. I thought it was great that he was reaching out to her, and I said so; but she became tearful at this. J asked me to speak to him, to request that he doesn't contact her until she is more stable and would reach out first. 

I of course sent this request to him. I outlined her mental state and explained that her psychologist had doubled her medication dose due to her depressive condition. I explained that she was fragile and did not want contact. So what did he do, reader?

Yeah, you got it. He messaged her, essentially saying 'your mum said my messages upset you, do you want me to stop?'. The unspoken implication being of course that I was lying. Then he replied to me saying that he would have to hear from her that she didn't want contact.

J was shaking, she was so upset. I had told her that I had messaged her Dad, so she expected to be able to relax for a while. It was only a message, but it was all it took to tip her over the edge. She cried while I hugged, raged while I calmed, swore while I murmured non-committal platitudes. Even when she replied to ask him not to message, he still responded to that. I refuse to outright tell her to block him because I feel that such a severe step should be entirely her idea and her decision. 

Of course, this is somehow my fault and/or a complete fabrication, I'm sure. Just like her mental state is a complete overreaction or exaggeration on my behalf (because doctors just loving handing out medication and expensive therapy based solely on the parent's word). Just like her self-harm is both a teenage phase that we should ignore, and also so critical that she poses a risk to her sister. Just like I am entirely accountable for the decision that both girls have made; to stop seeing their father. 

Narcissists cannot accept blame. They cannot accept any version of a story that does not paint them in the most positive, caring, progressive and affirmative light; the brightness that they see themselves standing under while the world adores them. Narcissists will use lies, blame shifting, denial, accusations or guilt-tripping to misdirect from any unflattering picture of themselves.

It took a long time to see it. I lived with it for many years, and believed many of the excuses. It wasn't his fault he disappeared overnight; it was whoever plied him with the booze it took to render him incapable of getting home. It wasn't his fault the building projects he had completed at home were falling apart; it was shoddy materials or my 'rushing' him to complete it. It wasn't his fault his business failed; it was his employees who were cheating him, and difficult clients who ruined him.

I'm not blameless in the slightest. I made many mistakes I made over the years and there were times I didn't behave in a way I would now. That was Married Me, who I don't relate with any more. Maiden Name Me is growing, maturing, learning and establishing. I like my new self. I like that I don't have to defend myself any more. I like that I can run my household and raise my kids my way. I like that I don't have to parent an adult boy who is incapable of keeping the skid marks out of his boxers and both his boxers and his piss off the bathroom floor. I like that I feel more confident in myself; confident enough not to settle when I meet someone that I'm not that into, confident enough that I don't doubt myself constantly and need someone else's approval. I like that my achievements are mine and mine alone. Maiden Name Me is doing pretty well for herself and she is happy, independent and comfortable. 

What's in my name?

A whole new damn woman.