Way back in the distant, blurry past – 1987, to be exact – I changed my last name. I did it for what at the time felt to be a good reason, but I now know was not.
You see, when my parents were divorced, my mother did what too many divorced custodial parents do: She attempted to poison the relationship between my father and his children. And she was quite successful. She had my sister and I both convinced that my father was a no-account SOB who didn’t care about us.
So, I resolved to disassociate myself from him in the strongest way possible: I ditched his name. I filed the papers the day after I turned 18. (“I’ll show him!”) And, to add insult to injury, I changed it to my mother’s maiden name, which she had returned to after the divorce.
Lo, these many years later, I now have good relationships with both of my parents. I know the truth of everything that went on after the divorce. I know that my name-changing decision was misinformed, petulant, and childish. And, I am consumed by guilt and doubt over it.
Part of the reason that I have so much doubt and guilt is that it had its intended effect – it hurt my father, badly. By mutual agreement, we don’t talk about it anymore, but I know it still hurts him, a lot. The other reason is that it also had collateral damage: It hurt my grandmother, his mother, a lot as well.
A few factors to consider:
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My grandmother died in January, 2000. I attended her funeral, but I had not seen or spoken with her in several years, in part because of the name change. I don’t know that she ever forgave me for it, and I never had a chance to make amends for it. This eats me up inside all the time.
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My father’s last name was not the name he was born with, either. His father’s last name, and so his and his mother’s married last name, was originally “Klonsky,” but like many Jews of the 40s, he changed it in order to “mainstream” himself. So, when my father was a child (age 5 or 6, maybe), his father changed the family name to “Kaye.”
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There is no question about “carrying on the family name” involved. My wife and I are not having children, so that isn’t an issue.
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There is the matter of my wife. She knows this whole story, but she took my name at marriage, so if I decided ever to change back, she would have to change her name again, keep the last name she has now, or revert to her own maiden name. Both of the latter choices would result in us having different last names.
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Changing my name now, from my mother’s to my father’s last name, might hurt her, and would leave me in no better a position than I was.
I’m really torn up about this. Does it even matter, at this point in my life, what my last name is? It doesn’t get in the way of my relationship with my dad (AFAIK), we don’t talk about it, etc. But I do have that guilt, and I hate it.
Anyone ever been in a remotely similar position? Anyone have any advice?