Thursday 17 September 2015

A New Name

At the time of writing this, I've been married exactly ten days, give or take a few minutes. And whilst yes, greater things have happened in the world and I promise I'll calm down on the wedding posts soon, there's been a few interesting moments that I felt needed sharing with you guys.

First up, I actually don't know who I am anymore. I have a new name. I spent a good, solid 27 years living my life as a Miss Kirsty Dowling, so you can imagine the mind fuck of waking up, slightly hungover, to everyone calling you something completely different. Also, I have no idea who I am on Facebook, which has led to me believing my account has been hacked on more occasions than I dare admit. 

On Monday I had to pick a package up from my local post office. It was addressed to a Mrs Kirsty McCarry. (Me) I had a moment of sheer panic when I realised I would have to sign for my parcel. I turned to my new husband with an expression that I'm sure neither of us will ever forget and begged him to go in for me instead. I wasn't prepared to use my new name in a social situation. Let alone have to write it on paper - under the watchful eye of the man standing between me and my beautiful bracelet. The ridiculousness of the situation isn't lost on me but my primary school handwriting lessons didn't equip me for having a surname with a Mc in it...

Which leads me on to my next point...

I'm a Mc. Like a McChicken nugget or a McVities digestive biscuit. Granted, I like both of those things, but I've never actually thought about becoming one of them. I'm not really sure where the Macs of the world fit into this but I feel a faint bit of solidarity with them. 

And what now...?

What becomes of my passport, my driving license, my bank accounts? 

WHO AM I?

Even though I feel like a proper wellington boot when I call Scott my husband, I have really enjoyed our first few days of married life. I just wonder when this weirdness will subside. When will I start to feel like a wife, be able to say my new name without laughing and be able to use the postal service again? 

Being married is weird. 

Share:

No comments

Post a Comment

© Life in Excess | All rights reserved.
Blog Layout Created by pipdig