I don't even know my last name

When I got married, I did what most women do, I changed my last name. I was eager to do, considering my maiden name started-and ironically ended-in Z. I was thrilled with the idea that I would be moving up in alphabetical standings. No longer would I be the last to be called for anything. Which was fine by me, considering I was the last one to graduate from my high school, and at nearly 700 students, it took entirely way to long for them to do so. And then there was the fact that no one could even pronounce it at all. Yep I wouldn't have to deal with people looking at me, asking me if I was jewish, and surely I was polish- I am neither. I am Russian/Hungarian.

Rather I relished in the knowledge that I would now and forever be in the M's. I would be in the midst of things. And this to was fine by me....So two days after I got back from my honeymoon, I raced over to my local social security office, sat for two hours and finally had the paperwork all drawn up. Removing my last name completely, because using my former last name with the new would be way to complicated to work out. So I took the easier way out, surely Aleisha Christine Mattice sounded a hell lot of better. And if nothing more, telemarketers would thank me for this years to come.

But now, four years and two months after I changed my name I find myself missing my maiden name. In a way I never thought I would. I find waiting in line for Z's wasn't as bad as I thought. Voting now takes twice as long to get through as before. Its twice as hard to find names in records, and I am not as original as before. Added to this, my grandfather recently announced that I was no longer a Zikowitz. The moment he said it, my heart broke. It was as if a part of me was/is missing. For to me, I will always be a Zikowitz, I will always belong to that name. Still his words made me want the name back. For a moment I thought I had made a mistake, I had always read about ladies who add their new with the old, and for the most part I never understood why. Because to me, you take your husbands name. But suddenly, sitting there in the living room, I finally understood. I got it.

Because they didn't want to lose a part of themselves.
They didn't want this feeling. I get it now, all of it.

And whether I would change it back or not. For a minute I think, is it to late to do so?