#97. What's in a name?

This essay started off very surface level and accidentally got kind of deep?

Over the holidays, I mentally created two separate piles for all the letters and greeting cards we received from friends and family. One pile was full of all the cards that were addressed to “Paul Olson & Kelly Johnson,” and the other pile was addressed to “Paul & Kelly Olson.” The piles were roughly equal in size, and while it doesn’t particularly bother me to open mail without my real name on it, I did find the exercise entertaining (I am who I am).

A majority of the letters in the Olson pile were from people I don’t know super well, so naturally, they probably have no fucking clue what my last name is. Instead of writing “Paul Olson & Kelly,” (which feels weird in a different way?) they took what they probably thought was a safe bet and gave me his last name. Why not? 79% of the time, they’d be right.

At a Christmas party in December, one of the senders of an incorrectly-addressed card came up to say hello, then asked me what my last name is. “I need to update my spreadsheet!” he said, kicking himself for guessing wrong. A true modern (and extremely organized) hero.

A few weeks ago, we received a card in the mail from my in-laws. I tore open the envelope, took one look at the check sitting on top of a very sweet note Paul’s mom included as a belated Christmas gift, and laughed. It was addressed to “Paul or Kelly Olson.”

“Well, that’s not my name, so I can’t deposit it,” I said to Paul as I handed it over. I’m not sure if my mother-in-law was secretly hoping for me to change my name, or just didn’t realize I’m not going to – possibly both. She’s the kindest human to ever walk the planet, so I honestly don’t think there was an undertone of judgement or pressure there at all.

Paul took the check and deposited it into our joint checking account. A few days later, the check bounced. It wasn’t due to insufficient funds – it was because of my name. There’s no one named “Kelly Olson” connected to our account, so the bank rejected it. Paul texted his mom to let her know, along with a very kind but firm reminder that I didn’t change my last name.

It’s kind of funny to have to go through such a fuss for something so seemingly inconsequential. But is it? Or do names actually hold more weight than just knowing how to address a check?

I’ve been thinking about last names a lot lately. While sipping margaritas at our parents’ house in December, my sister told me that she’s changing her last name back to Johnson once her divorce is finalized. I was surprisingly… delighted? We’ve always been “the Johnson sisters,” even though she’s had a different last name for nearly 12 years. And it’s not like our name is unique in any way, but it still really tickled me that we’d have the same last name again. I can’t really explain why.

I spent some time over the holidays finally reading the entire book my grandmother compiled about our ancestors on my dad’s side before she died. (Turns out I am a distant relative of a Swedish chemist who apparently invented the system of chemical notation we still use today, i.e. H₂O?? He never had children, but his cousin did, and I showed up a few generations later.) I was looking for inspiration for a possible pen name, since my own is so common. It’s been a very weird exercise in identity. If I publish a book under a different last name someday, how will that make me feel? Would it make me feel empowered to see a name I chose for myself on a book cover? Or like a part of me has been erased?

The funny thing is, I always wanted to get rid of my last name. Johnson is a frightfully boring name for a strangeling such as myself. But now I guess I feel a bit attached to it, if only because it’s mine, you know?

A few years ago, I considered getting a tiny “J” tattoo to mark me as the last ‘Johnson’ in my family line. My dad has two sisters who both took different last names, and my sister’s kids aren’t Johnsons, either. Since I’m not having kids, that made me the very last one. Our family tree will spiral on without it, obviously, just like in my grandma’s book – though the Johnson name can be traced backwards in my family’s history to at least the early 1800s; possibly before. But now there’s two of us left at the end of the line – both me and my sister – and there’s something kind of magical about that.

“You Are Cordially Invited to Our Wedding. But Not to Our Vows.” by Alix Strauss for The New York Times

Have you heard this? Exchanging vows privately (instead of reading them out loud during the ceremony) is trending:

“Some industry professionals attribute the desire for privacy to a welcome pushback against — and a consequence of — the overexposure that social media has brought. “Over the last year, it’s come to light that people are protecting their relationship,” said David Beahm, the founder of an event design company in New York that organizes more than 40 weddings a year. “They’re stepping away from having their lives on display to make sure a connection between each other is established first.”

“The Broligarchy is Here” by Laura Bassett for The Cut

You probably saw Elon Musk’s Nazi salute from inauguration day already, and this article sums up the state of politics right now perfectly:

“The optics of the multiday celebration made one thing abundantly clear: The broligarchy is here. Rather than quietly using their wealth to influence politics behind the scenes, rich tech bros now literally have a seat at the table with the president of the United States.”

“Please Don’t Make Me Say My Boyfriend’s Name” by Shayla Love for The Atlantic

This totally happens to me:

“By Carnegie’s measure, plenty of people are in serious jeopardy. It’s not that they don’t remember what their friends and acquaintances are called; rather, saying names makes them feel anxious, nauseated, or simply awkward. In 2023, a group of psychologists dubbed this phenomenon alexinomia. People who feel it most severely might avoid addressing anyone by their name under any circumstance. For others, alexinomia is strongest around those they are closest to. For example, I don’t have trouble with most names, but when my sister and I are alone together, saying her name can feel odd and embarrassing, as if I’m spilling a secret, even though I’ve been saying her name for nearly 25 years. Some people can’t bring themselves to say the name of their wife or boyfriend or best friend—it can feel too vulnerable, too formal, or too plain awkward. Dale Carnegie was onto something: Names have a kind of power. How we use or avoid them can be a surprising window into the nature of our relationships and how we try to shape them.”

Shockingly I am not finished with Onyx Storm yet!! I’ll tear through the last half this weekend, but also, if you haven’t listened to Rebecca Yarros’ Spotify playlist yet… 👀

P.S. How are we feeling about the rumored casting of Mackenzie Foy as Violet and Josh Heuston as Xaden???

My fav Gracie Abrams posted on Tuesday that she “had to unfollow @potus & @vp three (3) separate times today” because Meta apparently kept automatically re-following the accounts that Donald Trump and J.D. Vance now hold the keys to. They must have fixed the issue because I unfollowed just fine on Wednesday, but IDK, seems kind of shady to me!

Truly I’m going to spend all weekend hiding inside reading. Next week I’m going to see Rebecca Yarros live in St. Paul – will report back with all the details!!