How to Change Your Name
By Jayelle Seeley
- Get Engaged
- Go to the court with your fiancé the day before your wedding.
- Fill out the marriage license application.
- Get to the line where you are asked what last name you’d like to take.
- Freeze.
- Say, “I’ve never even written my first name next to yours. I haven’t even said the combination out loud.”
- He says, “You don’t have to take my last name if you don’t want. Or you can hyphenate.”
- “I always planned to change my last name when I got married, so I guess I’ll just take yours.”
- Cry.
- Ask yourself, “What is wrong with me?”
- Fill out the marriage license application.
- Get married.
- Get harassed for the next six months because your voicemail and Facebook still say, “Jayelle Marie Seeley.”
- Change your last name on Facebook.
- Re-record your voicemail so that it just says, “Jayelle.”
- Get harassed for the next six months because your voicemail and Facebook still say, “Jayelle Marie Seeley.”
- Complain to your new husband.
- I’ll have to take an entire day off.
- I’ll have to go to the Social Security office which means driving downtown which I HATE.
- I’ll have to park on the street which I HATE.
- I’ll have to go to the DMV and get a new license which I HATE.
- I’ll have to change my name on everything I own which I will HATE.
- Quit your job, the one you hate.
- Drive downtown.
- Park in the lot.
- Walk toward the building.
- Entrance closed.
- Walk around to the side.
- Sit and wait.
- “Congratulations, Mrs. Johnson.”
- Spend an hour on your makeup before you go to the DMV.
- The man at the door sees you holding an envelope in your left hand which hosts a big sparkly ring.
- “Name change?”
- “How did you know?”
- “Congratulations.”
- Smile demurely, “Thank you.”
- Take the best damn license photo of your entire life.
- The man at the door sees you holding an envelope in your left hand which hosts a big sparkly ring.
- Drive downtown.
- Go to the court with your fiancé the day before your wedding.
- Leave Your Husband.
- Use your middle name as your last name on all your social media.
- Two years later, the divorce decree arrives.
- Don’t read it.
- Too painful.
- Don’t read it.
- Every time you’re asked for your legal last name:
- Say it in a low tone.
- Mumble it like a child who was just forced to apologize.
- Wait another two years.
- Maybe I’ll just change my last name to Marie!
- Maybe I’ll make it Jayelle 2.0!
- Maybe I’ll be Jayelle The Magnificent!
- Maybe I’ll use a last name from a random generator!
- Get a job at a school where all the students need to call you “Ms. Johnson.”
- Lose that job.
- Get accepted into a master’s degree program.
- “He has nothing to do with me earning my master’s. I have to ditch his last name.”
- No other brilliant ideas come your way
- Decide to take back your maiden name.
- Hear all the horror stories about expensive name changes.
- Assume there was nothing in your divorce paperwork that would allow you to resume your prior name.
- Print out a document using online software to change your name with The Supreme Court.
- Fee of $210
- Alerting the papers.
- This seems extreme.
- Call your lawyer friend.
- “Just go down to City Hall with your divorce decree!”
- “I didn’t think the divorce included that.”
- “It’s a standard provision.”
- Finally read your decree.
- “Oh.”
- Drive downtown on a Monday morning.
- Find street parking near City Hall.
- Line up the side mirror with the other car’s side mirror.
- Cut it hard.
- Mirror lines up with bumper.
- Start turning the wheel back.
- Hit the curb.
- “Fuck.”
- Hit the curb.
- Find a different spot.
- Feed the meter for two hours.
- Walk to City Hall.
- “I don’t know if I’m in the right place but I need to change my name because of divorce.”
- “You’re in the wrong place, go to the court.”
- “I don’t know if I’m in the right place but I need to change my name because of divorce.”
- Walk to the Court Building.
- Get through security.
- No one asks where you are going.
- Look blankly at a sign.
- Do a lap around the first floor.
- Climb the staircase to the clerk’s office.
- “You already have it written into your decree. All you have to do is go to the social security office.”
- You could walk to the federal building but you’re sure your parking time will expire before you’re done there.
- Walk back to your car an hour early.
- Park by Café Kubal on Water Street because you remember that was right next to the lot where you parked for the federal building.
- Pay for two hours.
- Remember the entrance is not at the front.
- Walk to the side.
- Entrance closed.
- Follow the signs.
- Go around back.
- Follow more signs.
- Entrance here.
- Look over and notice your parked car.
- Realize that you did a lap around the entire building.
- Look over and notice your parked car.
- Walk to the side.
- Check in with Security.
- “What are you here for?”
- “Social security.”
- “It’s going to be a long wait.”
- “Well, I’m here.”
- Take a number.
- Wonder if you will run out of parking time.
- C435
- “I need your divorce decree.”
- “This is from April?”
- “Yes, April of 2016.”
- “I was being indecisive.”
- “I’ve never been in that situation before so I don’t judge.”
- “Here you are MIZZ Seeley. You’ll get your new card in two weeks.”
- “That’s it?”
- “That’s it!”
- Look down at the receipt
- Jayelle Marie Seeley.
- Notice that it has been over four years since a new piece of paper has been handed to you with that name.
- Feel unexpectedly elated.
- Notice that it has been over four years since a new piece of paper has been handed to you with that name.
- Jayelle Marie Seeley.
- Find street parking near City Hall.
- Realize you have another hour before your parking time expires.
- Every time you pass someone:
- Smile broadly.
- “Good morning!”
- Get a scoop of vanilla raspberry swirl ice cream topped with hot fudge.
- Take off your sandals.
- Roll up your pants.
- Stick your bare feet into the fountain at Clinton Square.
- Kick your feet back and forth with childish glee, splashing water.
- Wait at the DMV for two hours.
- “Sign here.”
- “1 2 3”
- “You look pretty.”
- $12.50
- “That’s it?”
- “That’s it!”
BIO
Jayelle Seeley has called Syracuse, NY, home for the past 8 years. She is currently studying for her master’s degree mental health counseling. This is her first published piece.
This is both funny and sad all at the same time. I can seriously feel the conflict in your emotions!
Thank you so much, Abigail!
Your simplified, outline style is something I’ve never experienced before in writing. It manages to evoke all the strong, heart-wrenching emotions of both poetry and a full-length memoir that left me quite moved. While this is certainly an experience I’ve never had personally, by the end of the short journey, I felt I had ridden the roller coaster myself in some small way. You capture the vibrations of the human spirit well throughout this piece- I, for one, look forward to more like it. Thank you for sharing this.
Thank you so much for this incredibly detailed feedback! I am glad you liked the piece.
I laughed. I felt like crying. I was nervous for you and empathetic the whole way through. Great job telling this story in such a unique way that highlights both your inner dialogue and the process of events in a way that is very relatable. I’ve been married 3 times and I never once changed my name. I’ve gotten a lot of flack about that from a lot of people over the years, but I remind people that I have a right to what’s been mine since birth and have no need to conform. I really did relate to a lot of your story. So much of it. This is so damn good.