This Is My Confession

I confess... I am a crybaby.

Cory and I went to the SS office last week to get my name changed, and as we were sitting at the counter, I started to cry. I think it started when my name was too long to put into the forms and I had to make a choice. "Kayla Danielle Merriman Scott" was not going to work. It's one letter too long. *sigh* I know, I'm crazy. But I want to keep all of my names. "Kayla" wasn't going anywhere, obviously. Unless I wanted to be radical and change my whole name to something like Princess Consuela Banana-Hammock. (Those of you who watch the show will get the joke, but I think the point is still valid.) I didn't want to give up "Danielle" either because throughout all of high school, I had an identity crisis and went by Dani instead of Kayla. And, I know most girls are so willing to give up their maiden name as a symbol of accomplishing their life goal of getting married. But I'm not most girls, and I really, really LOVE the Merriman name. It ties me to my family. Or at least that's how I feel about it. It's one of the few things that I share with my brother, and what tells people I am my father's daughter. I have an unnatural attachment to my father. Not unnatural in a bad way. But the man raised me. I guess, subconsciously, I wanted to pass on his name to show the world how much I love and appreciate him and all of his sacrifices. (I can't leave my mom out, she has done a ton in the past many years, and especially for the wedding, to make sure I was alive and well.)

So I had two options, since Kayla Danielle Merriman Scott was out of the picture. Ultimately, I had to make a sacrifice. The government always crushes your dreams, right? (That was a joke...) After the deal was done, I signed the paper, and we walked away, I cried again. And again when I saw my name on my shiny new SS card.

Even in church, when people call me Sister Scott, it still doesn't feel like me.

I confess, I also cry everywhere else.

Any time I hear my husband singing and playing a love ballad, I cry. Well, to be fair, sometimes he IS singing directly to me. And sometimes we sing together. Just because we're like that.

I cry when I pray, thanking my Heavenly Father for my wonderful life, families, blessings, learned lessons, moments of inspiration or opportunity...

I am a crybaby.