I've always been "Kathy," evcept for high school and college, when I changed it to "Kathie." I didn't voluntarily change it back, but my first job out of college, the HR people made me up a name plate that said "Kathy," and I didn't feel like arguing the point, so I went back to that spelling. My sister used to urge me to change my professional (i.e., grown-up) name to "Kathryn," just because it sounded more businesslike, but that's not me. She had to, because she's in a male-dominated field and the name "Kris" kept making people think she was a guy, but "Kristine" solves that problem. I still call her "Kris," though.

My mom's name progression is more interesting--she took her first husband's name upon marriage, and then when she married my dad a few years after the divorce from husband #1, he liked the fact that her middle name gave her the same initials as him, so she went with Firstname Middlename Dad'slastname, instead of Firstname Maidenname Dad'slastname, which she would have preferred (she hates her middle name, Agnes). After divorcing him 15 years later, she kept his name just because of us three kids--less confusing to have one name instead of two in the household. But, she did change her official name to Firstname Maidenname Dad'slastname. After marrying Wayne a few years ago, she's now Firstname Maidenname Wayne'slastname, which I'm still getting used to.

Family nicks are the weirdest. My dad called me Noodle and Nadilimos as a child, and Scoobywatchie as a baby (?). Limos (pronounced LEE-mohs) caught on with the extended family and they all still use it. GF loves to laugh at cards from my aunt Lynda that are addressed to Limos. My brother (John) was John-poot-bootie and Johnson (they still call him that) as a baby/child. I think I'm the only one that calls him Johnny.

Other odd nicks in the family include Swazi (my aunt Suzee [Suzanne]), Narpy (my aunt Happy, who is really named Joanna), Kebo (my cousin Kelly), Martini (my cousin Marty), and Honey (what we called my grandma, who was Joey, short for Joanne).

My last name isn't all that difficult, but it is uncommon. As such it almost always gets butchered.

I am not an Andy. Ever.

I think the constant spelling of my name has become part of my identity.

I feel this way too, except I always have to spell my first name as well. And lo, megan walker is born.

I've always hated my last name, especially since it doesn't go with my first name at all. I seriously thought of changing it to my mother's maiden name, which wouldn't be much easier, but at least they would make sense together. However, documentation would then be a nightmare since, according to French bureaucracy, your official name never changes (which I dig as a concept since it rejects the whole idea of taking the husband's name, but in practice means I would have different names on different identity papers). In this day and age, I think that would make travel even less fun.

Aimee, in Joe's group of friends with the nicknames, was "Raven"'s name Jeff? Guys who call themselves "Raven" are almost always Jeffs.

Nope. Not Jeff.

Family nicknames for me: Grandpa called me "Squeak". Gram called me "Pook" or "Pooker". No idea why for any of them.

iris is 'ipod', 'punkin'' and 'management.'

d- calling you.

My family could call me beth, lili, hank, henry, brat, or tiger lil, depending on their mood. Calling me Hank is so common that I sign things (emails, birthday cards) this way. I find it amazing that my nieces and nephews, despite what their mothers call me, always use Aunt Beth.

I am never, ever Liz.

um... maybe because they're not allowed to use their mothers' nicknames, or their grandma's. so they figure not using yours is safe too.

Billytea--I'm thinking about the directional metaphor you used there. It seems to me that there's room between refusing to use your old name, and giving up the one you've chosen. Accepting your old name as part of you doesn't mean rejecting what the new name represents, right? How would it feel to you to treat your old name as something of a 'middle name'? I'm thinking about ways to make it feel less like going back to your old name and more like bringing your old name forward to who you are now.

This is incredibly insightful...and gives me much more to think about. I think this was the subtext of the fellow's challenge.

I'm still not quite sure how to bring the old into the new and not feel as though I'm compromising my success. I know that sounds weird, but given from whence I come, having survived and succeeded in not being a tragic statistic is a HUGE part of my identity and a reason that people take my advice seriously.

David--As for the name change, I will just note that such symbolic gestures take their meaning from context. That is, you can't say that you lack integration just from rejecting your old name. Sometimes the healthiest thing to do is make a break and recreate yourself. Everybody does it many times over in their lives. You're not beholden to hold on to a damaged version of yourself.

True about the context...and that is exactly how it happened, really. I made a choice for change and in the context of my life, someone slapped Bj on me and it took instantly. Creating the break was vital. But, despite my repeated assertions that I'm 'not the person anymore.' The fact is, if I was talking to a client about a similar issue, I'd propose that, without Bonny, Bj could not exist.

You're not beholden to hold on to a damaged version of yourself.

Exactly this. And yet, I'm really getting in touch with the hypocracy of my feeling that Bonny could never be healed. That certainly isn't what I preach.

But assuming and acknowledging the healing may not require making a public statement (and going through what feels like a LOT of work) to identify myself my my legal name.

Brenda--I know people who did that. She was Winters and he was Neufeld, so now they're Winterfeld.

I love this like pancakes. I'm happy with my hyphenated last name, but sometimes boggle at the choice. I knew a woman last named McMasterson-McWilliams. Not only did it strike me as a law firm, and a pita for form filling, but it just seemed so heavy

Ginger--I think the constant spelling of my name has become part of my identity.

I am totally busted in this. It IS a big part of my personality that Bj has a small j with no periods. EVERYONE asks about it, so it is a conversational -in-. But, can I really blame people for spelling it wrong?

On the other hand, I got so sick of being told that Bonny was really spelled Bonnie and what was my problem.

Ask my wacknut father who was known as Sonny and who used my name to memorialize his sick relationship with his psycho mother. "Beautiful Ann"? Blech.

Ugh. I can feel the ire rise in me just thinking about it. Yes, more work needs doing on this particular issue.

I worked for a company at which people were frequently called by their initials or nicknames (notably, Wormy and Bebop). I was once interviewing a guy who went by M.O. and asked him his real name. He told me he was happy to adopt the initial thing, because his name was Maywood Outlaw.