What's in a name?
Growing up, I liked my name just fine and would contentedly scribble MAK in 90s-style bubble letters on scraps of paper during boring classes (I'm talking to you, pre-calc!). Other than that, I didn't give MAK any thought. Monogramming wasn't big then either, so I only had my initials inscribed on an L.L. Bean tote for my first year of teaching...it's like a rite of passage in the profession. Anyways, other than old scraps of loose leaf and my school bag, MAK was a non-issue.
Then I got married. I loved my new name--it really rolled off the tongue and I adored my symmetrical initials-MAM. It was a monogrammist's dream. Most importantly, I like all varieties of M&Ms and I took it as a sign from the universe that all that lay ahead for MAM was sweet, sweet love.
Since we know that my marriage imploded (I'm really holding back on dropping candy puns), four years after I'd become MAM, I stood in a depressing, taupe-colored court room, and asked a gruff, impatient judge permission to become MAK again. Once I swore not to embark on a life of crime with my former name, or that I didn't have outstanding debts as MAM, he signed an official document, shoved in into his clerk's hands, and sent me on my way....divorced and in name purgatory until I could go through all the rigor-moral of changing my name (again). For months, I strolled around with two identities....just like Batman. EJ was only a few weeks old and I couldn't find a second for myself, let alone time to haul it over to the DMV and Social Security Office.
Immediately, I started going by MAK at work, which was awkward, considering I worked with children who knew me by a completely different name. My twenty students finally got into the MAK habit, only to look perplexed when former or younger students shouted and waved to MAM. To add insult to injury, I had to drop "Mrs.", which parlayed into a confusing time referring to myself as "Miss" until one of my highly-intelligent (read it: smartass) students informed me that only girls under 18 can call themselves "Miss", and I was certainly "not anywhere close to 18." I still don't know if he's right, but I was publicly shamed into believing it. So, I was Ms. MAK by day and then Mrs. MAM on my license, at doctor's offices, the bank, etc. It always took me a good two seconds to think about what name to use or sign, depending upon where I was.
A few months later, I'd gotten into a grove with the whole mom thing, and MAK was feeling natural again. Most importantly, I was feeling strong and decided that it was time to truly leave the past behind. Aside from all the government employees wishing me a heartfelt congratulations on my wedding and new name (before looking down at the divorce decree I'd handed them), it was a painless process....a mere couple of hours of my life. But the outcome was momentous. When the government gave me MAK back, something clicked for me. I got an official do-over...and even have the piece of paper to prove it.
And until I figure out what I want to make happen with my old/new name, I'm going to monogram the shit out of stuff.
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