Name Change

I have had my name for my whole life.

I realize this is an obvious statement.
Have I had anything else my whole life? Not that I can think of.

My name has always explained me. My name=me. Who I am. Or who I was.

When we discussed the topic of women changing their names, years ago, I told my husband with confidence that I thought one person in the relationship should change their name. It is a unifying element. It defines the two you as a couple, a force to be reckoned with. Also, if you have children, it eliminates confusion. Johnny Smith's mom is Mrs. Smith, and so on. I also have this compulsion that, as a young mother, I would not want to be confused with the many unmarried mothers. Children of these mothers sport names that alter and confuse the family tree. Maternal names, or strange names of fathers they do not know. I want a name as a family unit.

When it came my time to change my own name, I hesitated. Who would I be? Who is Korey O? I never even figured out who Korey W was, and she no longer exists.

I traveled to the Social Security office, marriage license in hand, and I traded my short, easy to pronounce English surname for a harder to pronounce English surname.

I'm starting to get used to seeing my new name at work and on my emails, but I'll admit, I haven't changed my license or any bank or credit cards. I suppose I have one foot in the door of the "new me" and one foot still firmly planted in the past. And I'll get to it in my own due time.