I heard someone on a podcast mention that she changed her name when she turned 18. She described the process as fairly straightforward- fill out a form, complete a few clerical requirements, submit it to the state, pay the fees and in time, receive an official change of name document from the state.
I never thought much about changing my name. I don’t particularly like it, but since I’m not an actor or rock star, I assumed I’d have the same name for my entire life.
When I was younger I wished my mother had named me Chico, Wolfgang or Alexander instead of boring Steve. And I’ve always thought my last name was silly – it’s spelled just like it doesn’t sound.
After listening to that podcast, I thought, “I could do that.”
I could name myself anything.
I must admit, in the past few years I though it would be quite funny if my first name was Ainslie – since that’s become a more popular first name in recent years. Then I would be Ainslie Ainslie.
Another thought is to become Alexander Ainslie. It sounds so much better than Steve Ainslie.
Or, I could change both my first and last name. To anything.
It became kind of overwhelming to think of all the possibilities.
I was brought down to earth by my pragmatism. If I changed my name, then for the rest of time, I would occasionally need to complete some forms with a “formerly known as” or “aka”.
When submitting for social security and medicare (assuming I make it that far) it would introduce one more complication.
I’d have to explain to my friends and family why I changed my name and get them to use it.
That seems like a bunch of unnecessary complications.
So, for now, I’ll remain Steve – plain, old, and boring. Just like me.
Perhaps, one day, I’ll get another nickname and will go by that instead.