Note: some of the names have been changed as to protect myself from identity stealing thieves. Except, of course, my
name. That is real.With as many friends as I have married now, and more soon to be, It's hard not to think of the day when I'll get married. I often think what it would be like... will it have lace? Will it be an A-line, Ball-Gown, or Mermaid style? Will it have beading? White or cream? Diamonds or Pearls? ...This is all of course, in reference to the dress.
Ok ok, the husband/family/marriage thing is thought of too. But one thing that I am worried about, is my name. My name is Rachel Virginia Hale. And has been since infancy. It has, therefore, become a part of me, a part of my identity, it
is me. Rachel Virginia Hale. Well, more like Rachel Hale.
I can't say I've ever particularly favored the name Virginia. Say it out loud. Virginia. What does it remind you of? To me, it's a certain woman of some years in our church. Lovely sister, but, the name is tainted with age. And the state, who can forget about the state? The Mother of Presidents, the Old Dominion, where the state bird is the Cardinal, and the state shell is an oyster. Not exactly something to be creating an identity by.
Rachel Hale is my identity. I fully consider myself a Hale. All farm owning, field plowing, cow raising components that come associated with the name Hale. I wear my Hale chin with pride and fully know that all the past Hale hicks' blood runs in my veins. My children will definitely have a high disadvantage when it comes to their odds at turning out normal. And that's okay with me. I knew it was coming. I am a Hale.
Now as for the Whipple and Stoval and Cleaver components of my family. I can't say I can relate to the names. I'm sure they come with their own claims to identity. But I never was a Whipple or a Stoval or a Cleaver. I am a Hale. Recently some of my Whipple cousins made an easy assumption of associating the Whipple boisterousness with me but unfortunately that just isn't one of the things that have been put into Rachel DNA makeup. But thank the heavens for their blood! My children
will have a fighting chance!
But as for the middle name, no I cannot say I can relate to it. I mean, how often do we really get to know our middle name? It always comes up in paperwork: School applications, taxes, job applications. Though even then many times it's just a middle initial. These are hardly the kind of situations you want to create a good working relationship in.
Middle names many times come up in conversations with your school chums though. I once had a certain Sarah from marching band ask me my middle name. I told her. She said it out loud. "Rachel Virginia Hale. Sounds good, It flows nice. Your parents named you well." And for this I am grateful. It does sound very nicely together. Two syllables in the first name, one in the last, so therefore the lacking syllables had to be made up in the middle name. Practically rolls right off the tongue. Rachel Virginia Hale. Lovely.
But what happens when I get married?
Not only will I lose the Hale component of my identity, but will the middle name flow?
Now, I know what you're thinking: just hyphen it! --Hyphen it? Hyphen it? Not only will I be polluting the good name Hale, but a hyphenated woman is just not the kind of woman I want to be. Hyphenated women have always struck me as the kind of woman of self importance that were to too good to let go of their name. Get over it lady! Think of it. Who are they? The Mrs. Smith-Gladys from 2nd grade that none of the kids could pronounce so she became Mrs. SG. I
do not want to be Mrs. 'Ess-Gee' That name practically screams non-flow. Not only that but you're practically cursing every person who ever attempts to say your full last name. Why would you want to punish people like that? That's just too much effort put into a name. No, I am just not a hyphenation kind of person. I
will be changing the last name. However so regrettably.
Which leaves me with Virginia. What if I marry a three syllable? Rachel Virginia Washington. Rachel Virginia Fitzpatrick. Not good. Not good at all. I may be able to limit my dating to one and two syllable men. Although how good my my name will sound when we get married probably shouldn't be my priority requirement. "Hi I'm Ryan"
Oh he's cute. "Ryan what?" "Young"
Oh he's a keeper.
I may just have to live with what I get stuck with. I'm sure there will be a whole new history of my new name to discover. Maybe they were the shapers of this great nation, they were the politicians, or maybe they were on the Mayflower and helped discover and establish this Great Land. Maybe they fought in the Civil War and helped shape the ideals of that we now proudly wear. Maybe they helped tame and plow the Old West. Or maybe they helped define the American dream and created the Ford car or was the founder of Johnson and Johnson baby products helping all to have soft fluffy hair. Whatever the case may be, I'm sure I can pull something good out of it.
Yes, this can be done. I can shed the name Hale and I can live with it. It will be hard, this is true, but it can be done. After all, I
am a Hale! I am a woman of strength! Of valor! Of commitment! We Hales do what needs to get done! And we stick to it!
Unless of course I marry a Googisberg. In that case all hope is lost to any sense of identity.
