And it feels sooooooo alienating! Kind people have addressed sympathy cards to me using my hyphenated name and introduced me to strangers using what they think I prefer, and I'm only now working up the strength to tell you all that I was wrong, wrong, wrong. For me at least. I can't do it. I simply can not go back to a name that I only had for 21 years, when I've had this one for 40 years, and the double-barrelled one looks like some weird Pommy stranger that I've never met!
I designed this cover banner with my desired name so that I could give myself reassurance. Narcissism or a clever strategy? I don't want you to be the judge! I want you to get in my head and walk in my shoes!
The worst part about it is that I have to confront my folly every day for 60 days because that is the penance Facebook imposes on you for changing your mind about changing your Facebook name. I hate it. I just hate it. I writhe in existential angst every time I see that amalgam of names that is me, but is not me, was never me.
My advice to young women is to carefully think about the name thing if you are planning on marriage. I wish I'd kept my name. I wish I'd had the married one. I don't know what I want. All I know is that the name I've had for 40 years is my adult persona, the one I've grown into like a second skin. It's the one that I share with my children. And my dear man. Who knows. I just want it baaaaaaaack!
Talking about identity, I just sent off for the Ancestry DNA kit today. My darling cousin spent a few days with us and she's done it, the DNA analysis thing - lots of English, Irish and then there's the Iberian Peninsular bit. I think that's our non-related side, her dad's side, but I can't wait to find out.
Meanwhile, Facebook has me on detention. I'll tell you when I'm out.