I didn’t change my name when I got divorced in 2012. My kids had the same name, they really really (really) didn’t want me to be different from them at all. And I figured I’d had the same name for more than half my life, I probably wouldn’t change it.


Then the kids grew up. Then last December I thought: I don’t want this name any more. Maybe it’s a part of finally leaving everything behind and really being new again. My boss bought me a giant cookie because she said it’s worth celebrating a new life. (The boss, like everything else in my life, is a gift straight from God.)

I keep putting fka after things. I’m afraid people won’t realize it’s me. Like everything else that’s happened over the past five years, I’m going to lose my identity.

My friend said, nonsense, people get used to it. We’ve had lots of people’s names changing around here. But they got married. There was an event. I went to court by myself and swore I wasn’t trying to cause confusion or avoid the law. The magistrate said that he didn’t know what he’d do if someone said yes, they were trying to avoid law enforcement. Call the bailiff, he guessed? 

While I was at the courthouse waiting for my certified copies to prove my identity, Matt texted me about the new Kickstarter attempt we’re starting next month. When I said what I was doing, he texted: Sweet! are u changing it to some cool Bond Girl name? Then he swore that was a compliment. Matt is considerably younger than me and a boy, so I gave him a pass.

Also I couldn’t think of any Bond Girl names. Until a friend reminded me of Pussy Galore. Melanie McMuffins another friend suggested. That’s going to be my new pen name fo’ shizzle.

I have lots of stuff to change. It is confusing, even though I wasn’t intending it to be. I didn’t own anything when I was twenty. I own a lot of stuff now.

I’ll switch it all over eventually.

Because this is me now. Melanie McMuffins.

I mean Melanie Moore. It feels fabulous.

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