I changed my name

The first time I changed my name I was 4. I went strictly by Katie for a whole year. Insistent upon wearing dresses alone, and that no one call me “Madison” all through Kindergarten. Looking back, maybe it was because my dad and his second wife named their new baby girl Madeline that year... (we both went by “Maddie,” and I of course was Maddie #1). I gripped tightly around who I said I was, even as a child. I carved Katie into the antique headboard. I knew who I was.

The second time I changed my name I was 20. Walked down the isle, washed his feet in front of 300 guests and said, “I do” to a man, a life, ideology and marriage I was insistent I’d never outgrow. Few of the people present that day even speak to me anymore, but I was sincere. I was committed to being an excellent Christian wife. Maybe (certainly) it was because I was looking for family so desperately after years of abuse. I carved a version of myself that allowed me a place to belong. I knew who I was: I found myself safe as a daughter of the King, wife to my husband, bringer of good news.

This is the third time I am changing my name. Madison Marie Morrigan.

It’s not my maiden name. It’s not the name of another. It’s my chosen name, a name that signifies my own cyclical process, a feminine death and rebirth, and the internal sovereignty I’ve found as I have found home within. I am committed to the continual chipping away of all that is not and was not ever me. I am my home of belonging.

I know who I am, and I’m excited to keep meeting her.

xx,

-Madison (Marie Morrigan)