In the Club

I've spent the last week joyfully changing my last name to match Steinvic's.

I actually had a colleague tell me that she was disappointed...that my maiden name "carried a lot of power" because it was the name I'd had most of my life, and a name I worked really hard to get back when I went through the divorce from Hell.

She has a point, but I really felt strongly about having the same last name as Steinvic, primarily because I adore him, and also because I love his family and what they stand for. I feel like I have a whole army of people who love and support me. While I know my Mom and her husband love me, too, I am grateful for the amount sincere welcoming and acceptance I've recieved from Steinvic's people. It's amazing.

Actually, I was the last of my last name. With my Dad dead, my sister married, my Mom remarried...well, it's an odd feeling. In one way, given everything in my life, I felt like a survivor, and wearing that last name was a reminder that I could stand on my own and handle anything thrown (hurled, catapulted, shot) at me.

But in another...well, there is something very lonely about being the last one standing. Our unique qualities can make us feel so different that we feel solitary.

And while I believe that as much as possible, I have always had Steinvic's understanding, having his last name makes me feel like I belong. Not in a possessive way, but in an accepting way. I'm one of the gang. I'm in the club.

And it's a damn fine place to be...