My name has been very much on my mind of late. For those new to my story, Salter is my maiden name; in January 2019, after a conversation with my boss I began using it wherever possible as I started the process to change it legally. I’m sure it will surprise no one that the process has not been a simple one and now 10 months later I still feel I am in name limbo…

This week I have had to deal with frustrations as someone, who to be honest should have known better, refused to use it as it is not my legal name and that prompted me to revisit the journey my name change has been on and the feelings I had straight after the divorce was finalized, when I was struggling to find an identity and wrote this…

Somedays I feel I have no name... the name I so proudly wore for 19 years no longer fits. The name I had before doesn’t seem to fit either, and definitely doesn’t match with my daughters or describe the journey I’ve been on since I first gave it up. I’ve been Mummy and now Madre for so long I don’t know what other identity I have that is for me. We have no one name to go on a bucket outside our door, we have no one name to emblazon across the back of a team shirt. I hear my new old name said and see it written and it doesn’t even look familiar, it doesn’t even look like something I owned so fiercely for 27 years! It makes me feel so lost...

A project is always good, it always helps, so in January I began jumping the legal hoops as an immigrant wanting to change my name. The first legal hurdle to be cleared was applying for and then waiting for a Green Card amendment. At the time of my biometric appointment, despite having paid for it 3 weeks prior, Green Cards were taking 9 months to process, I feared for how this timeline would be impacted by the virus. 

But the Green Card arrived in mid July, far faster than I had expected. That was stage 1 completed; so now as far as at least The Immigration Services are concerned I am legally Salter… The next step is to take the paperwork and new Green Card to get a new Social Security card and from there I can change everything legally from Driving License to Check Books. But… the Social Security Offices are not in person and although I can mail the paperwork to them safely via certified mail, they will not mail it back the same way and I can not risk losing my Green Card nor can I afford the cost of a replacement. So stalemate, for now at least…

And please don’t think American bureaucracy has a monopoly on frustrating me... I’ve seen what I need to provide to get my UK passport changed and if anyone can explain why I need to provide both marriage and divorce certificates I will happily listen 🤦🏻‍♀️

The frustration that this process has created reminds me of frustrations I felt whilst waiting for my Green Card to arrive. The early days of NY Pause were not kind and reminded me acutely of how lonely being a single parent can be.

It’s lonely being a single mum, especially two years and more down the line when life should be finding its new normal but you aren’t quite there yet. How you crave adult conversation yet don’t have a grown up in the house with you to provide any. And multiply that loneliness by a thousand or more during a Global Pandemic, when the very essence of all I have built and become involves interaction with others who I have leaned on and supported for so long and whose presence now must be at a distance for fear we kill each other! 

I remember one weekend during the summer before the Pandemic when my loneliness was at its peak. My girls were with their Dad; a rare occurrence, it was only the fourth time they’d seen him that year... how I hated those weekends, no matter how hard I’d try not to, the stress was apparent for all of us, and would start showing itself days before his arrival, none of us find those weekends easy. It’s not our normal, I’m jealous and struggle with their transition back into our home from his hotel room and I hate myself for that, yet no matter how I try it bubbles up inside me and manifests itself at best as indifference towards my precious girls and none of this is their fault. I know I am hugely lucky not to have to share them 50/50. I know some parents feel that pain daily and of all the nightmares I have I am thankful that this isn’t added to my list. They were gone all weekend and I was alone. I am a victim of my own success; few realize I’m still in pain, that pain and loneliness still wave over me even now; sometimes even now punch to the gut pain, but I have become skilled at hiding it and wouldn’t dream to ask for help.

I have friends, oh my goodness I have good friends, don’t get me wrong, and they have supported and held me up and I will be forever grateful to them for that… but sometimes in the dark of evening I just wish things were different.

The Pandemic progressed and we moved from fear of killing each other to a very tentative and socially distanced social life. I am so thankful that I moved past those early shut down wallow-y days and can see what progress I have made. I have learnt to ask for help when I need it. The loneliness I have felt is multiplied the world over as lockdowns and quarantines rage across the globe; it makes things feel a little easier in my shoes to know the whole world is suffering my loneliness too. The visits that take my girls away have been sparse since that one, I think I count 2 more before Christmas and 1 and a half since. I’m pretty confident that the half will make the bones of another blog post somewhere down the line. For now I am thankful for technology that makes the world just a little smaller, for the fact that the pandemic has given me time with my college freshman I didn’t expect and for quality family time with my girls. But still deep down I wish that things were different…

Be kind, be gentle… 

Denise xoxo