Divorce is difficult. It's difficult even in the best of circumstances-no shared assets, no children, mutual amicability. But even when this painful process runs as smoothly as it could, there are adjustments that take months to get used to, and for me, one of the most difficult steps in this process has been changing my name.
A name, as I've found out through marriage, is much more than just what you are called. It is a part of your identity. And in a profession in which your last name is used over and over again, it becomes inextricably linked to your identity within that profession. That is why after I got married, acquiring a new last name took a lot of getting used to. As a teacher, my identity as "Miss Luthringer" was the only one I knew. Could I still be the same teacher even with a new name? The answer was, in all perceivable ways, yes, but it took many months to feel comfortable hearing students address me in an altogether different way.
If a person changes their name when they get married, it's exciting. The mundane tasks of traveling to various locations to get a new card, new account, new certification, are still mundane, yes, but they still somehow manage to be joyous.
When one has to change their name because of a divorce, not only is each stop mundane, but also repeatedly, relentlessly painful reminders of a failed relationship. At my job: "Reason for the change?" "Divorce." At the bank: "Changing your name because of marriage?" "Divorce." At my school's registrar's office: "Why is your name changing?" "Divorce." The word still feels foreign, no matter how many times it is repeated.
The realities of the practicalities of changing my name weren't made known to me until the process began over winter break, about a month after our divorce was final. Until then, the only place my name was changed was on Facebook. Official, perhaps, but certainly not legal. For that month, I had been in a name limbo, but was looking forward to finally having the name I now identified with match the one I had legally.
The process of attempting to change my name was arduous and dejecting. The decree that I had been given after the court hearing was completely useless since it had never been certified, which no one had mentioned at the time would need to be done in order to make any legal changes.
Finally, after a month and a half after the divorce was final, I was able to change my name at the Social Security office. I was finally going to get some closure. That is, until, I had the following conversation with the man working there:
"I need to change my name on my card."
"Why?"
"Because I got a divorce."
"Why?"
Pause.
"I know, I know, I'm just jokin' around. Obviously it's because the guy was an asshole."
"Um, actually no."
"Well, congratulations." *
"Um, thanks?"
It was such an absurd conversation that I really couldn't believe it was happening. He seemed oblivious to his unprofessional response, and we continued the rest of our interaction as quickly as we could, anxious to be out of each other's lives.
Then that night, my first night of classes of the semester, I was asked twice, once by a classmate and again by a professor, why my name had changed. Except they asked it happily, cheerily, expectant that it was because I got married. The conversation turned awkward when I explained to them that, no, I was not newly married. They both apologized, and the subject was changed quickly. **
This process made me acutely aware of just how often we have to give our full name. And this last month and a half, this name limbo, has been confusing and dispiriting. What name do I give when someone asks for it? The one I know myself to be or the one I am legally?
It took my own experience to find out that a divorce is not over at the final court hearing. In some respects, it is just the beginning. But time, as the saying goes, is healing. Using my maiden name will soon feel natural again. I will no longer have to pause when someone asks what my name is. Like everything else in this process, it will take a lot of getting used to. But with time and patience...lots of patience...this once painful process will start to fade away, and a new journey may begin.
Our names may be an important part of us, they do not have to define who we are.
Author's notes:
*I can only speak for myself, but if someone mentions they have gotten a divorce, a more appropriate response would be, "I'm sorry to hear that."
**If possible, look at the person's hand. If they don't have a ring on their finger, chances are, they did not just get married.
