When I was about 13, my parents became divorced. That was a good thing. Parents always use the, “I stayed for the kids” routine, but believe me…if you’re raising your children in a dysfunctional household in which there are late nights full of screaming matches (and to be fair, it was only my mother doing the screaming) then someone should go ahead a pack a bag. You’re doing more harm than good.
So in our case, it was best. Dad bought a house about 3 miles away, and life went forward.
Eventually, my father – who was young and extremely well off financially, married a total freaking hooker from hell. (Just keeping it real.) She was always causing problems and telling lies as she constantly manipulated. At one point, she asked me why my mother still used my dad’s last name. It was a rude and insulting question. She wanted to be the only Mrs. “Rich Man’s Wife” in the universe, however, unfortunately, my mother had two children and my mom wanted to keep her last name…especially after having it for 17 years and bearing children who shared the last name.
The woman was such a troll, that I rebelled, and changed my last name to my middle name. Stephanie Dawn became my name. I was rebelling against being associated with all of the insanity that came with the troll’s presence. (At one point, she informed me that the life insurance from my father was going to be split between my brother, myself, AND HER 6 YEAR OLD SON FROM ANOTHER MARRIAGE, after only being married about 2 years.) I told my dad this, and he was shocked. The insurance policy was for $6 million before she ever came into the picture, but it was divided between myself, my brother and my mother. She was all about the money and worried about who would get what. The funny thing was, how odd to constantly be daydreaming about an insurance policy? Hmmm. The joke was on her though, because in the end, through a series of events, there was NO money. No business, no insurance policy. Of course, she left shortly after it became clear that the money was gone forever. She didn’t sign up for that.
The dysfunction of having two women with the same last name, one a troll, the other a screaming, pissed ex wife… totally turned me off about the name game.
For years, I was Stephanie Dawn. My father jokingly referred to it as my stage name. I was pretty vocal about the decision to rise above the dysfunction and lift myself out of the abyss by trying to disassociate myself and not use my family name.
Then, I made the fabulous decision to get married at 21. I changed my last name, as all young ladies dream of. After a pretty ridiculous 12 year relationship, I left. I didn’t want a relationship, I’s wanted love.
Still very intelligent, I married again, about one year later to a man/boy with a host of serious emotional problems that I didn’t uncover until after we were married. Ugh. Yes, I changed my last name immediately after getting married. It lasted for 6 grueling years, which totally sucks because I should have left after the first 6 months. I just kept thinking I could help heal this person. While I wasn’t beat or anything, it was a very unhealthy relationship and I regret the entire ordeal. Remember this…most of the time, people will pull you down as you attempt to pull them up.
In an attempt to keep my world together through a divorce, I kept his last name. At the time, I felt I didn’t want to change it and have to go through the social security card, driver’s license, banking, job, and everything-else-you-have-to change scenario of being a divorced person. About 8 months after the divorce debacle ended, I decided to go have my name legally changed back to Stephanie Dawn, the name I crowned myself as a teen. It occurred to me that I was hanging on to my last name, as a way to appear as if I was ok. That I wasn’t broken by the whole crappy experience. I eventually realized I needed a fresh start from an emotional perspective. I’d uncovered some severe family issues from his tree, and his family quit speaking to me, which was hurtful. They knew everything he did to me, but didn’t remain friendly. I realized I needed his family name removed. I didn’t go back to my family name either. I’d wanted no family assigned demons to find me that were assigned to my family tree, no crappy ex husband’s family demons on me either….just my own person. My middle name was turned back into my last name, and that was it. Of course, I had to go to court, and prove I was not changing my name due to some illegal criminal past…but the judge let me change it…and I was reborn into Stephanie Dawn.
I kind of developed a coldness about the ownership issues I had with giving myself to a man that wasn’t worth it. Letting him put his name tag on me. I felt they didn’t deserve for me to carry their names and although I knew I’d be married again…I wasn’t sure if I’d ever want to take a man’s name again. Ugh. Just the thought of all that paperwork. More than that, would I end up regretting it as in the past?
Then, you fall in love. I mean, real love. In my opinion, I can best describe real love, as when two people love each other equally, in every way. After finding real love, you realize anything before might have been you loving someone, but perhaps they were not able to give back because they were not whole or damaged.
This time, when Ken and I became engaged, I had a real estate business in my name, so I decided to wait a while to legally change my name after marriage. I didn’t want to have to change tons of paperwork. Not only that, deep down I did want to wait a little to see how it went! A while, turned into 4 years.
Too many times we would travel, and I was proud that we were married, but as airport workers check your documents, it appeared as if I was just Ken’s hoochie mama side chick.
For a man to marry a woman, is a sign of respect. For a woman to take his name and wear it proudly is also a sign of respect. And then there is the union itself, and respecting that.
I also wanted to take his last name, for him. Men love that! It’s found to be a little insulting, and honestly it’s as if you’re not all in, or are possibly expecting the worst.
The social security worker who did my paperwork, wondered why I took so long to change the documents, I laughed and told her, “Well, I had to be sure it was gonna take,” which was my standard answer for everyone who ever asked why I had not legally changed it yet. It was funny, yet true.
Coach Ken is so happy and proud and we feel a little closer than before. I did it to honor him and he treats me like a wife, we are a team, and he lets me be who I am. We still fight over other things that he is constantly wrong about, but slowly I’m getting him trained! I got my new license and Social Security card in the mail this week and it’s official!
As for my dad…he still jokes about not having a daughter and the daughter that has no inheritance since she rejected the family name, and then we laugh. There is no inheritance, family name or not, he just likes to torture. Then I have to tell him that if he hadn’t married a troll, I wouldn’t have had to reject the name, and on and on. It’s a big joke.
I am now officially Mrs. Stephanie Sjoberg. I am letting go of the past and not letting others ruin my perspective on something that should be fun and romantic.
