What Changing My Name Taught Me About the People in my Life
By Kate Shively
I’ve been a vegetarian for more than 20 years. It’s considered more acceptable, ethical, healthy now—not so much in a small midwestern town circa 1997. As a vegetarian, if you wanted to eat out, at most restaurants you could order a grilled cheese sandwich (which I actually love, because duh), french fries, or a side salad. There was not an entire page of the menu dedicated to plant-based delicacies. I don’t even think the term “plant-based” existed. Thus I felt like a nuisance whenever someone had to accommodate me at a dinner party, or anytime I heard a hushed, “Karen’s a ‘vegetarian.” At large family gatherings, I’d have to pick the meat out of my lasagna and place it on the side of the plate closest to my husband so he could scrape it onto his own, unnoticed.
Through a lifetime of unacceptance by those close to me, I became accustomed to downplaying or hiding these “quirks.” As I got older though, I started to appreciate the things that made me different from those I knew and now identify those “quirks” more so as characteristics of my “true self.”
I saw the value of learning and experiencing life and began to surround myself with people who did the same. But like many things we hear as children, as an adult, my inner dialogue still insisted my ideas and hopes for myself weren’t valid or interesting and I continued to find myself seeking others for approval.
I’ve wanted to change my name for as long as I can remember. Maybe I didn’t identify with it or feel close to the tribe who gave it to me. I toyed with the idea over the years, always in a light and curious way, though came to the verdict that it might make others mad or disappointed. It might confuse people. They might think it was weird or a waste of time and money. It might be seen as unappreciative —like a gift I was given and now throwing back in someone’s face. Despite this, every time I penned my name or heard it shouted through a busy coffee shop, I wished it wasn’t mine.
This past year, as “Karen” was canceled, it became humiliating to even share my name. I didn’t want anyone to think I subscribed to the hate and hurt it represented. Sparked by this minor existential conflict, I started testing different names—listening as they were shouted over the coffee grinder and seeing how they made me feel. “Bella!” Cute, but no. “Sutton!” Nope. “Princess Consuela!” Maybe.
I would bring it up at home and among friends, soon becoming lively dinner talk and a fun way to connect with my niece and nephews (who, based on their suggestions, think I’m 100 years old). We imagined the eccentric and outlandish, the classic and cutsie. I loved hearing my people’s suggestions (silly or not). It felt light and right.
Two months ago I declared to my husband, “As soon as school is out and I have time to focus, I’m changing my name.” He didn’t blink; his support was obvious. In the weeks that followed, I shared my news with those closest to me. They were so enthusiastic and supportive even when operation “What the Heck is my Name” (of which my daughter, McKenna, was the commander) dominated our conversations. I consulted a name guru @thenamementor. She suggested everything from Aren to Xanthe and helped me think deeply about the process. I tried out all names new, old, and everything in between. It was comical and challenging. New names sounded too young and vintage names made me feel ancient. I wanted something classic/old-world/young/hip. Timeless, but not boring. I know…tall order.
The day after finals, I marched down to the courthouse—paperwork in hand—and posted it as required. I paid my fee and landed on the name I had chosen 15 years earlier: Kate. After all of the brainstorming and dreaming, I didn’t choose Princess Consuela Banana Hammock, Crap Bag, or Sophie Zankman (though I could have). I chose something that felt classic and timeless and comfortable. And so it was done.
But what surprised me most about this decision was that I didn’t feel annoying, weird, quirky, or impulsive. I wasn’t (for the most part) nervous to tell anyone because it wasn’t about them. The life I have built for myself and the work I have done to surround myself with incredibly kind and open-minded people was reflected in their responses. Below are just a few.
“Happy Birthday, Kate!”
“Congratulations - I love this! Good for you for wanting to change something and having the courage to do it. Bravo!”
“I LOVE THAT AND YOU ARE SO A KATE!!!!!!!!!!!!!”
“Kate….Kate…Kate…Kate…Kate…”
“Can I just add I loved typing Kate 😀”
“You go, Kate!”
“I’m SO proud of you and your name-changing journey. I know it’s not always easy and I’m just so happy for you!!!! I hope you know that 😊”
“That is so cool, Kate! Can I start calling you by the new name? I love that you did that! I totally get it too - I’ve never felt especially connected to my name.”
“Kate!!!!! I am so excited for you. Congratulations. What an important step for you. I hope you all are celebrating. I am officially changing it in my phone right now.”
“Yup yip hurray! Welcome to the world Kate Shively!!!!!
‘Wow! I wish one day we may also do so here in Greece”
“Happy name day!! 👏🏼👏🏼👏🏼”
“Wow!!!! I love Kate!! You are a total Kate, and it’s a timeless name. So happy for you, and so glad it feels so good.”
“Happy Name Day Kate❤️”
Notes From Your Therapist
People change their names for more reasons than I had realized. This label that we don’t choose for ourselves can be a source of contention, a reminder of something awkward or tragic, or a misrepresentation of our true selves. I admire anyone who has the courage to do it. It’s vulnerable and complicated but it’s also freeing. A celebration and a personal coronation wrapped in a simple, unapologetic package. I wonder if it would have felt the same had my people not been so enthusiastic.
Being comfortable in my own skin is a process for me, and I think often of the many people who work every day to become their authentic selves with little to no support at all. This change, while seemingly insignificant to some, helps encourage the people in my life to see me as I see myself. Changing my name was a very small, but important representation of that progress and growth.
I feel incredibly proud and lucky that I have crafted this family, friend group, and community, and have found the acceptance within myself to create a life that I know can exist, even if others can’t see it as clearly as I can. Luckily for me, more people than I could have hoped actually do.
Have a name-change story? We’d love to hear it. Send us a message, comment below or tag us on Instagram @theHIPpodcast.
Want to hear more?
Listen to more about Kate’s story on the Names and Coffee Podcast - Hosted by The Name Mentor, Alix Brown.