New Name: New Identity

The first day back at work after returning from my honeymoon, my intern was following me around as I was rounding on my patients. After writing a note in a patient's chart, I signed my name as usual, but then stopped short and stared at the only signature I'd ever known: Rebecca May. She noticed my pause, saying, "Aren't you going to sign your new name?" I was dumbfounded. I guess so? What is my new name? How do I sign it? Is it really MY name yet? Is it official? Who says?

It wasn't until a month later, after submitting paperwork and driving all across town that I held two, small pieces of paper that announced indeed, I was Rebecca May Bassett. It wasn't until then that it felt real. I would go to a doctor's appointment, but get confused when they asked my name - am I Rebecca May here or the new one? Con artists must be pretty smart to keep up with all the aliases they have! I could barely keep straight who knew which name and when people questioned my pause, having to explain the situation. I know who I am, I promise!

One step in the journey to becoming Mrs. Bassett was leaving behind my given name: Rebecca Suzanne Jecha (ye-ka) May. Oof, I know, it's a long one. But it was mine. I was originally sans the Suzanne, added when I was 5 years old. The only thing I remember about the name change announcement from my parents was my deep sadness that I wouldn't be able to rhyme my name anymore - Rebecca Jecha May had such a nice, rhythmic ring to it!

So there was a process or handful of moments when I would stare at the new name, then back at my old one, and mentally release my identity as the former in order to fully embrace the latter. As it goes with changing your name, so does your identity. What you are called greatly impacts your identity, who you think you are, and how others perceive you. Naming children must be such a weighty task!

Another thing I realized was that I actually began the name-changing process 10 years ago at Camp Eagle when my friend Mitchell randomly asked one day, "Hey, can we call you Reba?" I had no objections, it sounded cool, so I obliged. Unbeknownst to me, God was preparing a new chapter for my life, one that began small, but as I graduated, moved to Kansas, then moved to Austin, it began to write itself into the most beautiful, redemptive story I could never have thought up. Since moving to Austin, God has increasingly dug into my heart, exposed the lies and hurt that was there, and graciously and warmly healed and redeemed who I thought I was as He was forming me into who I actually am. Thus, my new name began to rest comfortably in a new heart: Reba.

So when I married my husband and "took" his last name as my own, replacing my past with my future, I was in essence forming my new identity.

Reba Bassett, an entirely new woman in more ways than one.