What's in a name?

Apr 11

When my fiancée (now husband) proposed to me, we talked about our last names. I'd been wanting to change mine for a few years as it was associated with my ex-husband. No bitterness… rather readiness to cut that tie and start a new chapter. At the time of our divorce, I'd just authored a book and was leading a company with the name Kathy Frey, my name at the time.

As that company wound down over the years after crumpling to a barely recognizable speck in 2008, I felt more willing to consider a name change. I sat with it and wasn't sure what to choose. I liked my last name from birth (Wright) but not the association with my father. Even though it would return kinship with my brother and his family, it didn't feel good. I couldn't claim it powerfully.

When I first married at 22, I was so eager to sever ties with my parents and my past self. I couldn't wait to change my name. It represented freedom from heavy baggage.

So, no, returning to Wright was not for me. It wouldn't serve my spirit.

When my new love proposed to me, I was so shocked. Remarrying wasn’t on my personal agenda. What a wonderful surprise to embark on a co-created adventure again. My fiancée didn't want me to feel obligated to take his name. He’d had a lifetime of comments and correcting spelling of Sellery. It looks lovely but sounds exactly like the vegetable. I shared that I'd been contemplating a family name that I always liked, and he was all for it. As part of our wedding ceremony, we each honored our ancestors and lineage in different ways. Taking the name Bacchus is how I honored mine.

In so doing, I'm curious about the ancestral work/healing that will come up. I never wanted to be a parent because I didn't think I was strong enough to overcome the type of parenting that had been handed down. I knew some healing needed to be done in me, and now I feel an opportunity to radiate that healing down the bloodlines.

Taking the name Bacchus is tricky in that I don't drink alcohol, and Bacchus is known as the god of wine and debaucherous revelry. But there are other associations with soulful community celebrations and enjoying life which resonate with me.

My knowledge of the Bacchus lineage is limited to knowing that’s the name that came through Ellis Island and brought my ancestors here. My genetic testing is in process so I can learn more about the blend of people who resulted in me being here at this time.

On March 13 (a Friday!) my last name officially became Bacchus. Changing names is complicated — not just for the hassle of changing every legal aspect, but also for the emotional. What it signifies spiritually.

With the stay at home orders in place, I'm stalled on all the different technical aspects of getting a new driver's license and passport, so I haven't felt as celebratory about this change because it resides on bank accounts, credit cards and many other proofs of identity that I use daily. The name change is real and official in the courts and with Social Security… but I still straddle a line between letting the old name and ties to that life go and fully stepping into this new phase.

Each phase with a different last name has been unique and associated with accomplishments and challenges of those ages. That's what I look to…