I talked some in my very first blog post about the importance of words and names to me. Words can hold undue power - what they say, where they say it, how they're put together. One of my ideas of heaven is hearing the most beautiful combination of words. I love the aesthetic of words and carefully turned phrases.I thought for quite some time about whether to change my name or not last year, when I first faced divorce. I talked to different people about their choice, the ramifications in their children's lives, and the reason for their choices. These ranged from the ease of keeping their married name to the need to cut that marital tie. I thought about the few friends' and family I have who kept their maiden name even into marriage, and how doable it is to have a last name different from my children. I remembered a sophomore music class with a revered St. Johns' tutor, an aged, gay man who wore thick, black rimmed glasses with one lens clouded to hide his eye, and him telling me during one class, "Alexa Van Dalsem. Such a musical name." I remembered how much I loved my maiden name, the tie to my dad whose middle name is Alexander, my name's exotic sound and reference to one-sixteenth of my family origin - a small town the Netherlands called Dalsem. I talked to my mom, and she remembered me saying that I told her I was going to change my name, "so I wouldn't hurt Michael's feelings." I have no memory of this. I do remember changing my name for him, as an act of submission.
In returning to my maiden name, I have felt more finally the end of my marriage, the regaining of my identity, a healing because for so long I haven't felt like me, like this is my life, and a strength standing on a name that meant so much to me in my family roots. I don't have a family home to return to, but my name change has felt like a homecoming. I have felt acutely in this change the life experience of "Always we begin again."
At the same time, the change has been tough, a representation of a family tie that I have lost, no longer being a daughter/sister-in-law in the Behmer family and losing a relationship I treasured and enjoyed. I have a strong memory from our first year of marriage of standing outside a large Baptist church in Huntsville with Michael, his brother and two of his sisters. It felt so good being part of a large family, having all these loving and protecting (while also lovingly crazy) siblings. I cringed recently when Asher was talking about last names while we drove in the car. From the back seat, I heard him list our last names, his being Behmer, Harper's Behmer, mine Behmer, Dad's Behmer. I slowly told him I had changed my name to Van Dalsem, explaining with the barrage of "why" as simply as I could that some people change their names when they get married or are no longer married. Thankfully, though I imagined him seeing his nuclear family crushed with this symbolic change, he did not seem phased by the information.
I am still adjusting to introducing myself and signing my name as Alexa Van Dalsem. I have started changing all the names on my accounts but put off changing my gmail display name until the summer is over and work with a youth organization conference is done for the season.
(Apparently the image gods are smiling upon me because in doing an image search on Google, I found the above image from a mushroom growing company in the Netherlands. Is that what all this is? The art of growing?)
3 comments:
I love this. I feel like saying, "You go girl!" AND "My heart breaks when you type" at the same time. You have a gift. Time stands still when you write. You think you'll do a book one day??
It was ironic that John didn't not want me to assume his name when we married, but I thought it such a neat name that I wanted it. When we divorced the decision became easy, because my younger son wasn't sure he wanted his mom teaching in his high school. I said, "That's easy. Not that many people know me, so I'll just use my maiden name." I liked it, so I kept it. And my son discovered I was okay to have on campus (plus I had a refrigerator in my room). Like you, I have no roots to return to, so who I am, which in part is my name, seems essential, a strength that allows me to become, wherever I am. I actually go by my last name, or a shortening of it, often enough, which makes me feel a special bond with Harper--not to mention spending hours holding her when she was just a few days old.
I had a hard time taking Robert's name. I battled back and forth for a long time (we did have a 10 month engagement). I finally asked him, "If it was important to me, would you take my name?" He said he would. 10 years later I know he totally lied but it worked out.
I think it's hard to let go of your identity, to whom you've been for 20+ years and become someone new. In the end I think my biggest reason was wanting my last name to match my children's.
But, I've been thinking about your posts for a while now, and my thought was that it will be nice for the kids to know that not only are they a Behmer, but they are a Van Dalsem as well. I think in naming and passing on the patriarchal name, we lose some of the influence of the mother.
In short, you go girl!! (And I have always thought of you as Van Dalsem because really, it is a very cool last name.)
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