why did you change your last name?
I can honestly say, from personal experience, that there is no better way to violently piss off and alienate half your family, than to change your last name (and announce it on Facebook).
My mother was raised by her grandparents, so she took their last name. We lived with them (in Globe AZ) when I was young, and I am named for my great grandfather, Robert Taylor. Great Grandma was alive and spry until I was 18, and I still hear her advice and admonishments in my head (while she was mopping the floor with me at our monthly all-night gin games. One more hand, Roberto, let’s play to 100,000! Geez, Gram, I’m really tired…You’re a teenager, deal ‘em up!) And my mother raised me by herself, I feel like she should get the credit. By changing my last name to her maiden (my great grandparent’s) name, I feel like it honors all 3 of them.
I have never identified with my sperm donor’s father’s side of the family. Even though I shared their last name, they are not my kind of people. Bunch of racist, sexist, bigoted, wife-beating, child-haters. In fact, if I met any of them on the street, I would just as soon impale them with a blunt object, repeatedly, as look at them. Fuck ‘em, and their stupid fucking name.
Plus, my mother’s first baby (always referred to as ‘the baby’ in our family) died at 3 days old. I didn’t learn until later in life (whole ‘nother story) that he actually had a name: Robert William Maphies. My name. Exactly the same. (Trust me, when you are 10 years old and see your own name on a grave marker for the first time, you WILL faint.) So, among other things, I thought my big brother deserved his own name.
So my brother (that I never met) and I have the same first and middle names, Pa and I have the same first and last, and Mom and I share the last name. I think that covers everyone that deserves it.
And at least now people can spell and pronounce my last name.
