What’s in a Name?

I’ve become enthralled by a certain Facebook group for Wellesley alums to which I belong. The variety of topics is amazing. (The other day, for instance, there was a question about Ring Pops.) One topic has involved surnames – upon marriage do you keep it, do you change it, what do you change it to, do you get annoyed if someone stubbornly refuses to call you by it? This topic was also covered by an article in the Wellesley Alumnae Magazine. Apparently there was a survey that went out to alums asking some of these questions. I must have missed it, so I thought I would put my thoughts down here.

When I was engaged, the question of changing my name didn’t even enter my head. I wasn’t going to do it. I was Michelle Gosselin. Period. But then my future father-in-law heard about my plans and was hurt. Through his son, he asked me to reconsider.

So, while weeding one day (yes, even back then), I gave my name careful thought. I asked myself why was I so attached to the name Gosselin? At that point in my life, I was only close to three Gosselins – a brother and two sisters. And my two sisters would most likely be changing their name in the future. I realized I had more of a connection with Gladus and Chaffees than I did Gosselins. So I asked myself, how important is this to me, and is it worth hurting my father-in-law and, as a result, my husband?

So, I changed my name.

It took me a while to get used to “Michelle Moody”, but, to be honest, I have always liked the sound of “Michelle and Dave Moody”. (Though “Mrs. David Moody” will always give me the heebie jeebies.)

Once the kids got into grade school, I especially liked being called “Mrs. Moody” by their friends and their teachers.  Yes, I am their mother.  Unfortunately, those days are rapidly coming to an end. I’ve been informed by one of the friends that it’s now okay for her to call me by my first name since she has graduated from college. That makes sense, and it made me laugh. But it also makes me sad.

I’ve also thought about my other names over the years. When my brother was a toddler, he couldn’t say “Michelle”, so he called me “Mich”, which has been my family nickname every since. As I’ve previously mentioned, Phil has a variety of nicknames for me that all begin with the letter “T” that actually derive from the original “Baby Tubsy” – a favorite doll of mine. The nephews and nieces call me “Auntie Mich” or “Auntie Michelle”. My daughters call me Mom, Momma, Mummsie, and Maaaaaaa.  And Dave occasionally still calls me “Mich Gosselin”.

No one name could possibly define me.  It takes all of those names, and what I am to the people who call me by them, to represent who I am.

Whenever my father-in-law wrote out a check to me, he was always a little uncomfortable and used to say he never knew who to make it out to. I always told him “Michelle Moody” was fine. He died a couple of years ago this past July, so it’s a little late to say this, but I wish I had told him “Michelle Moody” was more than fine.