"What's in a name?" Juliet muses. "That which we call a rose, by any other name would smell as sweet."
Anne of Green Gables begs to differ. She can't imagine that a beautiful flower called Skunk Weed would smell good. (Apologies that I can't find the exact quote.) But then, Anne is also quick to point out that she is "Anne with an 'E.'" As someone whose last name (now maiden name) also has an 'E' where some people don't expect it, I relate
Names are important. This is something that I've known for many years as first an actor and then a writer. In fiction and theatre, a character's name gives you an impression. The name Severus Snape, for example, gives you a drastically different image in your head than Luna Lovegood, even if you know nothing about the characters or the world they come from.
In real life you usually have less choice on the impression your name gives. Your parents choose a name for you, based on family members, names they like, compromises, and other things. My parents named me Jennifer Elizabeth. It was a compromise. My dad wanted something very "normal," like Mary Jane (that wasn't an actual combination suggested, but you get the idea). My mom wanted something more poetic, like Anya Guinevere.
As many of you reading this know, I haven't gone by Jennifer since I was 8 years old. One day, actually right around this time of year, I decided that I wasn't Jennifer anymore - that I was Elizabeth. The timing was good - it was almost the end of the school year and I would be going to another school the next year. My parents agreed that they would call me Elizabeth at home; I would stay Jennifer at school and if I still wanted to be Elizabeth at the end of the summer, we would tell people at my new school that that's what I went by.
Fast forward many years. I was called by Elizabeth (though often having to correct people) in high school, college, and my professional life. I was fortunate enough to be allowed to have simply "Elizabeth Ivey" printed on my diploma. I had to always remind doctors (except my dentist, who I've been with since I was in middle school), employers, and others that I go by Elizabeth. I've received more emails, cards from people who don't know me well (and in once case, one who should have known better), and "thanks for shopping with us, Jennifer" from well-meaning cashiers than I care to think about.
I considered legally changing my name on multiple occasions. Everyone told me, "oh, no, that's expensive - wait and do it when you get married." I didn't think to question that logic - my mom has also gone by her middle name all her life and successfully dropped her first name when she got married. In 1977.
But 1977 was prior to identity theft, terrorism, and all those lovely things that create more rules and regulations in our digital age. So after I got married in September and attempted to change my name with the Social Security office, I was told I still had to have a court order to drop my first name.
A lot of people suggested just tacking my married name onto the end of my name, or dropping my maiden name and doing as I've always done; go by my middle name. But after 28 years of correcting people, explaining, and sometimes just deciding it wasn't worth the effort to tell people my preferred name, I really wanted to be who I am. I didn't want to drop Ivey. I've always been Elizabeth Ivey. I've had a few people address me as Ivey either as a nickname, or because there were multiple Elizabeths in a group. I've published stories as Elizabeth Ivey, and will continue to use that as my pen name. No, it was time to finally drop Jennifer. (Nothing against Jennifer; I've known a lot of nice people named Jennifer. But it's not me.)
So after the end of a 6-month journey of paperwork, bureaucracy, and a lot of waiting, on Friday the 13th I officially and legally became Elizabeth.
Interestingly, one of our friends who we had over last night commented to me something along the lines of, "You just don't seem like a Jennifer to me." You're absolutely right, Erin. I don't seem like a Jennifer to me, either.