As you may know, I recently decided to (informally) change my first name and go by Louise instead. Although, actually,...
I changed my name and then I changed it again.
Many things have changed since then. That’s why I thought it would be funny to add a running commentary from my current self. You will find it in brackets and cursive. My current self also decided to strike out entire passages that no longer felt pertinent.
Also, taking the first step makes the rest of the journey easier, even if we initially set out in the “wrong” direction. At least, we are packed and ready to go, right?
The commentary also shows how much we often grow in a short amount of time. For instance, I’m not the same person I was in January 2024… and you probably aren’t either. Our past selves were wonderful…. and so is who we are right now.
For now, however, let’s time travel back to January 2024:
What it was like to change my first name
“Ostara”
[Louise: Nope, not the name I’ve ultimately decided to go with.]
A weight got lifted off my shoulders when my husband called me by a different name. We were trying out a few names and finding one that resonated brought me a huge sense of relief.
It would be hard to overstate how important this is for me.
You see, my name has been an ongoing source of subtle (and sometimes not-so-subtle) unhappiness and discomfort throughout my life. And while sometimes discomfort is good—for instance, when it shows that we are growing—this wasn’t the discomfort of growth. It was the discomfort of an ill-fitting shoe.
[Louise: It wasn’t that bad in retrospective and it allowed me/you/us to grow.]
Berenike, the name I was given at birth—doesn’t quite fit me. I’ve gone through many variations and nicknames—Nikki and Bere being the most prominent ones… and still, some discomfort remained.
[Louise: And yet, you sometimes miss being called “Bere.” Funny how that works, hmm?]
For the longest time, I thought this was a me-problem and that I shouldn’t be so sensitive. Maybe if I just got used to it, it wouldn’t be so bad. Over time, I’ve realized that that’s not the case. I’m not sensitive (well, I am but that’s a different matter), I just have the wrong name (for me).
[Louise: Perhaps you actually had the right name for you? By having the “wrong” name, you were given a special gift: you got a chance to name and define yourself.]
We should feel comfortable with our names. They should fit us like a glove. They should feel good.
[Louise: Ugh! Do you really want to think of your name as a glove? And why should it fit like a glove? What if you grow, will something that “fits like a glove” still fit?]
After all, our names are how we get identified throughout our entire lives. And that’s a big deal!
[Louise: Yes and no. In some ways, it’s a big deal, and in another way, it’s just a name.]
For instance, if you are called “Bob,” you are trained to respond whenever someone says that name. When you have a name you like, and someone calls you, it’s like hearing the sound of a beautiful note. (That’s my reaction when someone calls me “Ostara” “Louise”.)
However, when someone says “Berenike”, it feels more like hearing nails on a chalkboard.
Why I hadn’t changed my name before
Fair point. You see, even though I live in the US (which has very flexible name laws), I’m a German citizen.
And the German name law is about as flexible as… Damascus steel.
Basically, there’s no way for me to change my given names on my German documents. (Yeah, I know, it’s ridiculous!) Thankfully, there are at least exceptions for transgender people. Everyone else is pretty much stuck with whatever names they got at birth.
In my case, that’s a lot of given names. I used to be unhappy about having so many middle names. Until Germany loosened up its name laws just the slightest bit… allowing me to at least change the order of my given names. Which means that all of my middle names are now fair game.
[Louise: All that might have helped but it’s not the real reason you haven’t changed your name before. 1) Germany changed its laws a few years back so you could have done it anytime and 2) You’re not actually considering formally changing your name so it’s not like it matters. You just didn't have enough clarity back then, which is fine. It wasn’t about the external circumstances but about your internal process.]
And, lo and behold, one of my middle names actually works for me! Which is amazing. It means I could even formalize this change on my German documents, if I wanted to. (Funnily enough, it’s now the American side of name change that’s more logistically challenging. If you only live in one system, count yourself lucky!)
[Louise: Blablabla. You’re not wrong but this is just mental clutter.]
I’m not sure I will formally change my name but it’s amazing to know that this is a possibility. You see, being human means that we sometimes have issues that feel very permanent and like we can never resolve them. My name was one of them.
[Louise: And funny how it has become a non-issue for you as soon as you resolved it.]
And if there’s one thing that feels amazing—like you’re invincible—it’s resolving a longstanding issue (or accomplishing a seemingly impossible goal). Turning something that feels bad into something that feels good actually feels even better than never having had that problem in the first case.
This is even truer if you have very little wiggle room (like me with Germany’s inflexible name law) and you’re still able to use what you have to get to where you want.
Why? Because it shows you that you are a creator. That you have choice. That you can get what you want, even within the constraints you might be finding yourself in.
[Louise: You were a creator before you changed your name, too. You just didn’t like your creation very much, when it came to your name.]
So, anyway, this is my long-winded announcement that I now go by Ostara Louise 🙂
[Louise: Well, I’m sure glad you waited until you send out that announcement.]
