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Oct. 8th, 2006 04:35 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
elizabethWhen I say my surname, I stumble. It feels strange in my mouth. I introduce myself, and I think, no, that's wrong, that's not me, who is that? There are three people in the world with that surname: my biological father, myself, and my sister (okay, possibly there's some guy who edits Biblical websites, but I think it's a pseudenym). I don't want anything to link me and my biological father. And while I don't want my sister to feel I'm rejecting her, I don't want to go through life feeling foreign to myself. I think about publishing under this surname and I cringe, because that's not the me who's writing the stories, the poetry, the criticism. I don't want this name on my diplomas, I don't want to meet a person I will fall in love with under this name (of course, it's possible I already have, but never mind that), I don't want to be part of this lineage. But the most important thing, for me, is publishing -- I will not publish under this name. I don't know why, exactly -- my best guess is that I want none of any professional success I may achieve to reflect on my father.
Oddly enough, this doesn't feel like something that's going to change my life, it feels like it's something that's already happened in my head, and this would be the public acknowledgment. Whenever it comes up in therapy, it gets swept aside in favor of discussions that are meatier, that seem to matter more urgently.
I almost feel like it should be a bigger deal -- I've been fascinated with nomenclature most of my life, and used to read books about names, the etymology of them, the significance of them, on a regular basis. Several discussed women's reactions to changing their names after marriage, saying that some of them loved it because it gave them to reinvent themselves as a wife, as part of a partnership, and some of them thought their personality actually changed with the name change, that they became different because of it. Maybe that's what I'm hoping for, that I will transform with my name, but I don't think so. I don't think even my unconscious is that stupid. (God, I hope not, because if that's what going on, I know I'm going to be really disappointed. There is no magic bullet for me; my problems will only be alleviated, much less solved, through a hell of a lot of hard, painful work on my part.)
But at the same time, I haven't done it yet. At first, there was the lawsuit between my parents, but that was settled a few months ago. There's the cost ($200, wtf), but I could afford it. I haven't done it yet. I haven't filed papers, I haven't even printed anything out. I keep just looking at the forms and thinking soon, but -- if I want this so badly, if I've been wanting this, why am I not doing it?
There's that stupid cliche history is made by those who show up, and yes, it's stupid, and it's a cliche, but I have that tacked up over my desk (along with 'done is good enough' and 'anyone can emote; bearing witness is not so easy'). I believe that. It doesn't matter what I want if I don't do something about it; all the goodwill in the world doesn't change anything. It's like that old trope about therapy -- if you need it badly enough, you'll get it, and the corollary, that it will only work if you want it to work. If I wanted this badly enough, I would make it happen.
For some reason, I'm not making it happen, and I'm not sure why. On the surface, there's no reason not to do this -- not one that I couldn't overcome with a minimum of effort -- but something's holding me back. I don't know what. And this is something I do want, I'm sure of that, and yet. And yet.
Oddly enough, this doesn't feel like something that's going to change my life, it feels like it's something that's already happened in my head, and this would be the public acknowledgment. Whenever it comes up in therapy, it gets swept aside in favor of discussions that are meatier, that seem to matter more urgently.
I almost feel like it should be a bigger deal -- I've been fascinated with nomenclature most of my life, and used to read books about names, the etymology of them, the significance of them, on a regular basis. Several discussed women's reactions to changing their names after marriage, saying that some of them loved it because it gave them to reinvent themselves as a wife, as part of a partnership, and some of them thought their personality actually changed with the name change, that they became different because of it. Maybe that's what I'm hoping for, that I will transform with my name, but I don't think so. I don't think even my unconscious is that stupid. (God, I hope not, because if that's what going on, I know I'm going to be really disappointed. There is no magic bullet for me; my problems will only be alleviated, much less solved, through a hell of a lot of hard, painful work on my part.)
But at the same time, I haven't done it yet. At first, there was the lawsuit between my parents, but that was settled a few months ago. There's the cost ($200, wtf), but I could afford it. I haven't done it yet. I haven't filed papers, I haven't even printed anything out. I keep just looking at the forms and thinking soon, but -- if I want this so badly, if I've been wanting this, why am I not doing it?
There's that stupid cliche history is made by those who show up, and yes, it's stupid, and it's a cliche, but I have that tacked up over my desk (along with 'done is good enough' and 'anyone can emote; bearing witness is not so easy'). I believe that. It doesn't matter what I want if I don't do something about it; all the goodwill in the world doesn't change anything. It's like that old trope about therapy -- if you need it badly enough, you'll get it, and the corollary, that it will only work if you want it to work. If I wanted this badly enough, I would make it happen.
For some reason, I'm not making it happen, and I'm not sure why. On the surface, there's no reason not to do this -- not one that I couldn't overcome with a minimum of effort -- but something's holding me back. I don't know what. And this is something I do want, I'm sure of that, and yet. And yet.
Reposted from LJ, 20 March 2009
