A friend of mine made an interesting comment about my last post about time.
“Fun to relive and think about time. I hadn’t thought about it that way…my time is marked by life events or self imposed things but you have a seasonality.”
I’ve come upon a time right now, or shall I now say, season, of marriage. It is an interesting stage. The union of two different individuals, marked with different commonalities and officialities, like a last name.
How do last names and labels connect to our identity?
The labels of “husband” and “wife” uttered in the last lines of the marriage ceremony, printed in home deed documents, and spoken by life insurance agents slowly started to feel less foreign as the weeks pass, in this journey of being bonded for life.
When the words of “my wife” come out of my husband’s mouth, I feel a warm, tingly feeling. Yet, it hits different when I say “husband.”
Right now, a marriage license sits in patience to be processed at a county clerk’s office. In a couple of more months, an official name change will occur.
Though when I heard my current surname from a nurse today, it felt strange. Am I still this person? If it was a few months ago, I would still strongly own this identity.
Now, I am wavering, in this sea of transition, the changing of a last name.