Tag: marriage Page 1 of 2

New chapter, new author: On changing your name after divorce and re-marriage

Worse than the people who didn’t ask, and just assumed that I had changed my name when I got married (that’s a choice, not an imperative)… worse than the people who addressed things to “Mr and Mrs His Name” (as if I didn’t have my own name anymore)… are the people who assumed that I would go back to my maiden name.

Changing something as big and as personal as my own name was something I decided to do for me

Not for my partner. Not in the name of tradition. Not for the patriarchy. It was a decision made with much thought and personal pride. And it hurt to find out that so many people did not… what’s the right word… believe(?) that Megan Finley is my “real” name. It was like they were telling me that they never felt my name change was a well-thought-out choice. As if my name — MY OWN FUCKING NAME — was just on loan to me via that guy I married.

I never FOR ONE MOMENT considered going back to my maiden name. Because if I had, for any reason, actually wanted to use my maiden name, I would have never changed it in the first place.

I’ve written about the fact that my birth name, Megan Tharpe, never felt like me. I’d even go so far as to say that feeling mis-named gave me some kind of insight, in the tiniest ittiest-bittiest, most privileged of ways, into how a transgender kid must feel — knowing that you were assigned to this identity at birth, and yet, never really feeling like it fit who you are.

“Megan Finley,” however, fit this bitch like a pair of Black Milk dragon scale leggings. The moment I became Megan Finley, I felt like I finally became my true self. Aaron and I even had this exchange: “You know, even if we divorce I’m keeping the name Finley.” To which he responded, “It is my gift to you.” And it truly truly was, and still is a wonderful gift.

Although, now that I am getting re-married, and starting a new family, I get to consider my name options again…

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From prison to proposal: Our small island, big dinner, engagement

Who gets engaged in kitty tights? This bitch.

Our walk along the beach to try and de-spazz before dinner.

WE’RE ENGAGED!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I was totally surprised. Even though I had a feeeeeeling he would propose to me. When it actually happened, I was not all expecting it at all. But let me back up…

That morning, we woke up and packed our stuff for our much-needed weekend “break from Prison Break” on Lummi Island, Washington. We had made reservations to eat at this restaurant called The Willows Inn. Which is, in short, a bad-ass restaurant that’s one of the top places to eat in the US, that we were told we had to try, and which we had been dying to try. Since we ended up staying/working two hours away from it in Vancouver, we realized we could make it happen!

But first, we had to drive across the border… Our border agent, of course, asked (seemingly) a million gruff questions. Then asked how we know each other. Mike said, “She’s my girlfriend.” And then added, “we live together.” As if to give it more gravitas, which I thought was adorable.

collecting shells

Then we drove all the way to the ferry station that would take us to Lummi Island. We arrived about 30 minutes early. So we walked along the beach of Lummi Bay, and we found a ton of GORGEOUS oyster shells. We collected a bunch of them. I figured I could use one for a jewelry catch-all — which is really fortuitous, given what would happen later. Laden with oyster shells, we wandered back to the car and it was time to drive onto the ferry.

It took minutes to go shore to shore, but they were fun minutes!

Once off the ferry, we immediately spotted the place where planned to have lunch — basically the only other restaurant on the island. We had an incredible burger, with a side of “bacon jam” and “ocean view on a clear and sunny day.” While we scarfed down the burger, I stared at Mike and thought of my mom’s tale of how nervous my dad was on the day he proposed and realized, “there’s no way he’s going to propose to me tonight. He’s not acting any different.”

I’ll learn later that Mike’s nerves didn’t hit him until we got back into the car and headed for The Willows Inn. Looking on the map, our drive was just a straight line around half the small island — basically, just follow the water and then you’re there. Mike immediately took a random left turn, for no real discernible reason, and then had to turn around and get back on the main road. He admitted later that he made that weird choice, because he was starting to get nervous! How cute is that!?

The Willows Inn restaurant on top, and front desk at the bottom.

The Willows Inn restaurant on top, and front desk at the bottom.

My first look at the Willows Inn… holy shit, you couldn’t ask a Hollywood production crew to build a more idyllic restaurant setting. My thoughts at this point were, “he’d be an idiot not to propose to me here. Hell, if he doesn’t I WILL!”

This is where the magic happened.

This is where the magic happened.

After checking in, gathering all the information, we headed to our “offsite” lodgings.” It was an adorable free-standing, two bedroom house, with a super-modern kitchen and windows for DAYS. It was, in a word, awesome. I immediately spotted my special anniversary gift for Mike, that I had sent to our room, sitting on the kitchen counter. Excitedly, I ran to it and started opening the box. Mike was like, “hey, can you not mess with that right now?” I shot back, “I just want to open the box and make sure it’s right.” “Oh, okay,” he resigned. But… there was something in his voice, something that wasn’t in fitting with his usual imperturbable self. So I, reluctantly, turned my focus from the gift towards my uncharacteristically needy boyfriend, who said, “I have a question for you.” “Oh yeah, what’s that?” I asked, my heart immediately fluttering.

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Cutting the invisible string

Remember a couple weeks ago, when life was really kicking me in the proverbial dick? You all know I lost a chance to buy my dream house. What you didn’t know is that the next day, due to miscommunication, I was basically uninvited to an event I had been looking forward to for months. AND I was also dealing with the WORST case of constipation I’ve ever had. My stomach hurt, my heart hurt, and my butt hurt, it sucked. But, as I was wallowing my constdepression, I decided that things were going to get better. I took a minute on Sunday to pull my head out of my sads, and made a deal with the interwebs to stay positive:

But the poop storm wasn’t over, because then our marriage shat the bed.

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Marriage homework: Describing my vision of a satisfying partnership

the finleeeez

That guy I married and I are back in couples therapy. This time around it’s a totally different beast. We’re not doing that cliche “partners at each other’s throats/it’s all your fault/no, it’s all your fault” thing. Even our therapist is surprised at how calmly and nicely we communicate. Pssh. That’s what our first run through couples therapy was about.

The first time we did couples therapy we learned about non-violent communication. We learned that the things we think we’re doing to each other, are actually things we’re doing because that’s just what we’ve always done… for reasons. We learned about those reasons. We just basically learned to understand each other better, communicate with each other more efficiently, and take a more active role in being married. Then we stopped going when we realized we were just talking about the same things over and over. Things we had already figured out, and mastered.

Therefor we thought we had solved marriage! When really… we had just solved the first couple of marital puzzles: who we are together, and how to talk to each other.

Three years later, we realized that there was more puzzles we needed to solve: How do we grow up as individuals together? What happens when our life goals don’t meet up? And can we navigate “deal breakers” without breaking our deal?

Basically, we got our “now” figured out, but what does our future look like? Honestly, we don’t know yet. At this point in our lives — me in my early 30s, Aaron in his early 40s — we both have different views of what we want for right now and for our future.

So our therapist has us doing some “homework.” One of those things was to write out 10 brief statements describing our vision of a deeply satisfying relationship — including qualities we want to keep as well as ones we wish we had. And we gotta keep it positive and write in “we.”

I came up with eight things pretty easily, but I’m having difficulties coming up with two more. Sometimes blogging helps me pull thoughts out of my brain, so I thought I’d barf ’em out here and see if I can come up with all 10…

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Supporting marriage equality through language on the Offbeat Empire

Altar your thinking, and watch your language.

Altar your thinking, and watch your language.

Maybe I’m overly sensitive, but the fact that I have just been visually assaulted by two gender-normative, wedding-related bullshits in the mere matter of minutes has really pissed me off. One was website selling “wedding blessings” to “celebrate the marriage of a man and woman…” And one was on Pinterest: a book titled “Prayers for your future husband” pinned under “for my daughter.”

And though it’s not surprising that both these things were religious-based — whatever — that’s not even what’s pissing me off. What is getting to me is the assumption that marriages are hetero-normative.

It baffles me that people still assume that it’s always “man and woman,” or “bride and groom,” or that your daughter’s going to marry someone’s son.

A while ago my friend Drew wrote an awesome post on that marriage equality equal sign that swept through Facebook: Don’t Let That Red Equals Signs Become a Hollow Gesture. My favorite part of it, as an editor, was this…

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What it’s like living with a musician/sound engineer – example #2

So Aaron’s not had a lot of work for AOL lately, which means he’s been working on his own projects… at home. So yesterday it was endless loops of Big Dick recordings and then today I found this little surprise when I went to the bathroom…

I guess the bathroom has better acoustics for recording than the living room? I have NO idea, but it was like WHOA when I opened the door. 🙂

What it’s like living with a sound engineer

I’m working in the bedroom (yes, in bed even) while Aaron is mixing something in the living room. This is a little glimpse of what it’s like to live with a sound engineer.

Turn up your speakers as loud as possible to REALLY get the effect (this video didn’t pick up the sound as well as I’d hoped).

Change your name, change your life

change your name

The other night, Aaron and I watched Dances with Wolves. (It was my first time seeing the film. SO SAD! ARG! They killed the wolf AND the horse. WTF!? But anyway, I digress…) In the movie, Kevin Costner’s character John Dunbar says,

“I had never really known who John Dunbar was. Perhaps because the name itself had no meaning. But as I heard my Sioux name being called over and over, I knew for the first time who I really was.”

And that quote sums up exactly how I feel about my name change. Megan Tharpe never really knew who she was, and “Megan Tharpe” never really felt like my name. It’s like I just knew it wasn’t me from the beginning. And then there was Megan Finley! That name just sounded like me. It sounds happy and spirited and it ends with a smile when you say it. And from the moment I took that name, I finally became who I was supposed to be. It’s like it enabled me to succeed. And it’s just a name! But it changed everything.

Ariel shared a Broke Ass Bride article recently entitled Your wedding can be a launch pad for your life and before I read the article itself, just the title really resonated with me. My wedding really was a launch pad for my life. Because of our wedding…

  • I signed that paper that changed my name to something that felt more “me.”
  • I discovered Offbeat Bride and all the awesome freaky, nerdy, weirdos that made me feel like I didn’t have to be a freaky, nerdy, weirdo all alone.
  • I applied for the Offbeat Bride internship that gave me my most favorite job.
  • I had to deal with the WORST wedding photographer which then inspired me to become a professional wedding photographer myself.

And all those things have changed my life so much! All of those things have changed Megan Tharpe into Megan Finley and created the the seedling that grew into my wonderful life now.

I’m not saying that marriage and a wedding is the key to happiness or anything. But what I’m saying is that I definitely believe that things come into your life to change it up and allow you to become what you need to become — like John Dunbar in Dances with Wolves. He would have never become the man he was destined to be if the Indians hadn’t adopted him, the same way that I wouldn’t be the woman I am becoming today if I hadn’t gotten married.

Romance in marriage

FYI — this blog post teeters on the edge of too personal to post, but I’m putting it out there because I want to remember this and not just forget it in a journal that I’ll never read.

The other day I had a bit of break down. I was feeling really bummed about a lot of little things. At first I was thinking about marriage and Aaron and what it means to be with him for the rest of my life. Not that it’s horrible or anything. I love him and I’m glad that we’re married. But yesterday I had a thought… that I’ll have to be the ONLY ONE to hold this guy’s attention (in all sorts of ways if you get my drift) for the rest of his life. That I have to be all things to one human being forever and for always. It’s not an easy thought to deal with. How crazy a thought. Usually, I feel like people (myself included) worry about things like, “oh man, I hope he doesn’t cheat on me.” But I’ve never thought about something like, “oh man, I hope he doesn’t get bored of me.” And I got depressed over the thought of ‘what if it’s something I fail at?’

And then I was also thinking about the fact that I will never get to experience the thrill and romance of new love and that Aaron (and, in my experience, most guys in general) will never be as sweet and romantic as he was when we first met. Not that this is how I measure romanticism but, for example, he’s bought me flowers a total of three (maybe four?) times and that’s all. Though, yes, I told him that I’m not the biggest fan of flowers, so there’s that. But I told him to instead when he feels like getting me flower to get me plants! So that I can keep them forever and remember his sweet gestures. But the closest I’ve gotten to that was when I asked him to buy me that aloe plant in Ikea the other day. And he totally did, which was great. But it wasn’t something he’d ever even think about on his own, ya know?

Then I talked to my dad and he sounded so so sad. He’s not finding what he wants in his search for a retirement home and I got off the phone with him feeling even MORE sad.

So when Aaron come home from work yesterday I immediately let him know that I was having a depressed day and so he sat and watched movies with me all night. And then at the end of the night, while we were lying in bed, instead of being all lovey-dovey, I ended up crying in his arms. And Aaron was awesome with me. He talked me through all my emo bullshit and then he goofed off with me to make me laugh. And it’s like — Okay, he may not be the most romantic guy, but he REALLY has my back when I need him. And that is pretty damn romantic!

So, you know, interesting how the world works. It kind of made me look like an asshole. But it did show me something. He was so romantic by just being sweet to me last night. It didn’t take a grand gesture and it didn’t take buying me something, and it didn’t take any creativity — it just took the time he could have spent playing video games and ignoring his bummed out wife, and spending it instead talking to me about about my feelings and trying to make me laugh. Amazing.

I realize that even though I will never experience the thrill of a new relationship again, I have the thrill of a growing relationship. And as that relationship grows, so should my ideas of romance. It’s not always flowers and making out and playing Peter Gabriel songs on a boombox in the rain. Sometimes it’s crying followed by making jokes about naming your unborn children terrible things (like “Awesome” “Second Kid,” and “Joan” no matter if it’s a boy or a girl).

Thanks to the universe for giving my sad pants attitude the little kick in the ass that it needed. I am so blessed.

Just look at all that romance! photo by Jana Morgan

No, he doesn’t wear a ring

Our rings

I still follow a few popular wedding-related Twitter accounts. I chalk it up to a market research kind of thing, since I write for Offbeat Bride. Most of the time I just ignore the tweets as 98% of them are pure WIC fluff. “Flowers worthy of escorting you down the aisle.” “Have you ever thought of wearing a red wedding dress!?” “The time between your engagement and your wedding is an ideal time to begin a regular beauty and fitness regimen.” “Make sure to buy more things! You need more things! Things that are shiny!” And then this tweet caught my eye:

“Do U Care if UR Husband (or Future Husband) Doesn’t wear a Wedding Ring?”

I read it and immediately wanted to tweet back defensively — Why the hell would I care!? Why the hell would anyone care!? What business is it of yours!? And so on. But I thought, naw, totally not worth my time. And then it got worse as I read this response:

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