We've been married for almost ten months.
I know, you haven't received the thank you notes that I promised you four months ago. Chill, please. It'll happen. I'm sorry.
I've been training for a new job, worrying about where we're going to live in a few months, and sleeping through headaches for several Saturdays in a row.
But it's been five months since I wrote a post and I have something to write about right now, because I've been working for ten months to change my stupid name. (I love my name, but it's been quite the process, and I still have work to do.)
About a week after our wedding, I drove to the other side of town to the Social Security office to apply for a name change and a new card. It was a simple process, changing "Swanson" to a middle name and making "Smith" my last name. I was given a receipt, but I didn't look closely at it.
After a couple week, my card hadn't arrived. I checked the receipt and the mailing address was incorrect. Now, before you worry that my card was sent to a stranger who would steal my identity, the address it was sent to did not exist. It would be returned to the Social Security Administration as "Undeliverable." When I realized this, I called the local office and explained the situation. I was told that the name change had been successful, that I didn't really need a card for my everyday life, and that I could either go on without worrying about it or come back to the office and apply for a new card.
Because I was only getting paid for the hours I worked, I didn't want to take time off to take care of it. I didn't need my card for anything, and I knew my name was officially correct.
Once I was hired full time and had vacation days, I took a half day. I drove across town again. I sat for over an hour waiting for my number to be called. I explained my issue again to the woman at the window. She asked me what my name was supposed to be. "Hope Elizabeth Swanson Smith" She gave me a receipt. The address was correct, the name wasn't quite right, but the last time I went I was told that there weren't enough available characters but that the card would be printed correctly.
A few days later, I opened the mailbox and found the envelope from the SSA. "Yes! She got the address right!"
I opened the envelope, pulled out the card, and found myself in a blind rage. "Hope Elizabeth Swans Smith." SWANS! Swans. That is not my name. That is not what I said, and she didn't give me the opportunity to review the information. It also doesn't make much sense, since she had our marriage license with "Swanson" on it. Isn't it logical to assume that that's the name I wanted?
Also, it was the same woman who got the address wrong, even though she was looking at our marriage license with the correct address.
I spent the next week annoyed that my options were to either deal with it and finally get my swan tattoo or take more time off. The hours at our local office don't allow for me to go after work or on the weekend, which I can almost understand. It also adds an item to the list of reasons why the government is the worst. (It's not, and I've written about it, but it's frustrating and inconvenient.)
I woke up a week ago and was sick enough to stay home from work. I was pretty miserable, but I decided to take advantage of the day and make the trek across town AGAIN to explain the situation AGAIN. I took Dan with me this time.
Congratulations to the office for getting a new check-in computer in the last month!
I got to work with a different woman, who was much more helpful and understanding. She let me check and confirm the information and the name that would be printed on my new card. She gave back my first card, even after taking a Sharpie to it and voiding it (I'm too sentimental for my own good and started crying when I realized that this card that I've had forever would be destroyed). She was very sweet and I am so thankful for her.
And yesterday I opened the mailbox and found Saturday's mail. Behold, an envelope from the Social Security Administration. Behold, inside that envelope, my new Social Security card.
Behold, Hope Elizabeth Swanson Smith. My name. My real, official, preferred name. After ten months, three visits, plenty of tears and frustration, I have my new name. It's done.
I still have to get a new driver's license and passport in the next couple of months, so stay tuned.
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