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Making a Name For Yourself

Plus: A great recipe, and more.

Hi friend,

Every single adult we know has resolved to be on their phone less. According to Business Insider, “bricking your phone,” aka killing its addictive qualities for specific periods of time so you can focus and do things other than stare and scroll, is the “new Dry January.” (People are even posting pictures of their Bricks, which would seem to defeat the whole purpose.)

The concern over phone addiction and algorithm-induced toxicity — as explored in this Vox piece — is also cropping up in new music.

Singer-songwriter José González, whose gentle covers of The Knife’s “Heartbeats” and Massive Attack’s “Teardropboosted him to international fame, has a solo album coming out in March titled Against The Dying Of The Light. The title track, released this week, encapsulates his message: “Let’s rebel against the replicators/Against the dying of the light/Kill the codes that feed the hate/Keep the codes that make you thrive/Celebrate the fucking fact that we’re alive.”

As the writer Laura Lippman says, “things are Very Bad in the world and if one expresses pleasure in anything, there is always someone ready to scold you: How can you be happy? Don’t you know how horrible things are? Well, yes. Which is another reason I’m confused about being happy.”

We enjoyed Lippman’s entire essay, but particularly this: “When my husband left me in what was once our house, I was sad for a while. Then one day I wasn’t. Not loving someone who didn’t love me turned out to be one of the easiest things I’ve ever done. It’s akin to having a cinderblock on one’s foot: it’s painful and then you realize that all you have to do is remove the cinderblock.”

Speaking of post-divorce realizations, this week’s essay is about the emotions one woman felt upon reclaiming her maiden name after her marriage ended. Read on for that, plus a few recommendations for your week.

Bye,
Your friends at Gloria

After a tumultuous year negotiating a divorce from my husband of thirty years, I was ready for the next chapter. Two days before the hearing, my attorney asked if I was going to change my marital name from “Burt” back to my maiden name “Sweet."  I was stumped.

That question brought me back to 1987, when as a newlywed I found myself standing in line at a grey-walled Social Security office in Trenton, NJ. Accompanied by my new husband, I was there to fill out forms to change my name to his surname, Burt. My palms became clammy, and I had trouble holding the pen. My birth name was my personal marker, my identity, my byline at the magazine where I worked. Sensing my hesitation, my husband offered to fill out the forms, leaving me to simply sign them. I felt torn. If I went against the grain of what the majority of American women do, was I somehow jinxing my union and my future family? The feminist in me bristled at this patriarchal act. Nonetheless, I signed, hoping I would settle into this new “skin.”

For three decades, I was Holland Burt. I signed documents, served on boards, and raised three children, becoming a family of Burts. I loved my family, but I never truly loved the name. “Burt” rhymes with dirt, squirt, hurt, and is also a man’s first name. In the days leading up to my divorce, with little time or bandwidth to process the opportunity to reclaim my maiden moniker, I asked my closest friend and neighbor, Katherine, for advice, knowing that she had gone through the lengthy name-change process herself after her divorce. Katherine said dealing with all the bureaucracies (Social Security, DMV, banks, etc.) was time-consuming and “soul-sucking.” "You have been through a very trying time," she said. "Maybe just take a breather."

Another consideration was how it would affect my three college-age children, all of them Burts. Even though my kids were supportive of the divorce, I worried how they would feel about Mom using a different last name. Would they think part of me was divorcing them? I tabled the decision, knowing I had the option to legally change it down the road. Instead, I focused on celebrating my hard-fought freedom.

I dipped my toe into a name change on social media, thinking I could use “Sweet” socially. I went with “Holland Burt” while including “Holland Sweet” in parentheses. Not exactly “Here I am, Holland Sweet is back.” Confused about which way to go, I chose optionality (read: uncertainty), which felt a little like a cop-out.

Post-divorce, I wanted to uphold a favorite holiday tradition: producing the family Christmas card. Alongside a photo of my three children, I opted for a new sign-off: “Love, The Sweet Burts.” This, I thought, was a clever blending of our names. It wasn’t lost on me that my cheerful Christmas message implied I was the “Sweet” parent.

Using Sweet socially was one thing, but I reached a stumbling block making flight and hotel reservations. Officious airport personnel and hotel staff demanded legitimate identification. I had no choice but to use my legal name.

After a few months, my married name really started to irk me. In early 2020 I decided I was ready to navigate the bureaucratic maze leading to an official ID change. Then the pandemic reared its scary, ugly head. Government offices shut down. The name change seemed trivial in the wake of those dark times. Keeping my family safe and healthy was my only priority.

 I dug my original birth certificate out of my safe. It was torn, rendering it useless. I applied for a new one, apparently alongside many other American women. It was seven months before I received the new certificate. 

Soon after the pandemic subsided, my uncle died, leaving behind a trust. As I was the sole family trustee, I signed piles of documents. Changing my name amidst all this was clearly a bad idea. “Burt” had to stay.

 Once my uncle’s estate had settled, I revisited the process. Around the same time, I learned that Project 2025 — a political initiative embraced by the Trump administration — had buried in its 920 pages a proposal to change voter ID requirements, forcing people to present their birth certificates in order to vote. Opponents said this would disproportionately affect women who used their husband’s last name.  

 A quick Google search indicated that I had to petition the court to legally restore my maiden name. Did I need a lawyer to do this? I called the court in New London County, where I was divorced, and after a lot of bureaucratic back-and-forth, a clerk emailed me a form called “Motion to Restore Maiden Name.”

Before sending my request to the court, I texted my kids to let them know what I was up to. I got three thumbs up and three heart emojis. Coincidentally, my daughter had recently sent me a postcard addressed to “Holland Sweet.” Validation. The timing never felt so right.

The judge okayed my name change, and I received a certified copy of the order. The first stop at the Social Security office in New London, CT boded well. The female clerk reviewed my license and my certified court order and handed me a receipt, which included my full name, “HOLLAND ATHERTON SWEET.” My middle name, which I hadn’t used in decades, jumped out at me.  “Wow, I’ve been reborn,” I (actually!) proclaimed. The clerk chuckled and I skipped (for real!) down the steps to the exit.

Next comes an in-person visit to a handful of government agencies, the dreaded DMV, and an under-staffed federal passport agency. Then comes changing my name on bank accounts, credit cards, my mortgage, and numerous other financial entities. 

Armed with pent-up purpose and newfound enthusiasm, I view restoring my birth name as a means to honor my personal history. By reclaiming “Sweet” I am moving forward and welcoming my old self back home.

If your closet feels tired but shopping feels like work, this is the fix. Armoire is a monthly clothing rental service that makes getting dressed easy, polished, and actually fun. You get a personalized closet curated by stylists and smart tech, with pieces that work for real life, from workdays to weekends. Shipping, cleaning, and styling are all included, sizes run 0–3X, and you can pause or cancel anytime.

Right now, Gloria readers can get up to 60% off their first month plus two free bonus items. You can even try the unlimited plan for just $99. Use code GLORIA and start with their Après Ski or Winter Workwear edits to ease straight into January. #partner

Knight of the Seven Kingdoms. Image via HBO.

TO WATCH It feels like Game of Thrones aired several lifetimes ago, and yet the final episode arrived in spring 2019. Now, a new chapter is being added to the GOT saga with Sunday’s premiere of Knight of the Seven Kingdoms. It’s a little lighter, a lot shorter (there are six half-hour episodes), and the early reviews are pretty positive. Also back: Matt Damon and Ben Affleck, in an action thriller called The Rip which is out today on Netflix.

TO SHOP Old Navy’s 40 percent off everything sale is happening right now, and we’re grabbing this easy half-zip with matching bottoms for cute and comfy set, plus a few of these perfect under-everything camisoles we wear nonstop. Find those items and much more here (online only). #partner

TO COOK These extremely tasty Thai chicken meatballs, served in a comforting coconutty sauce with vegetables, were a hit when we made them last week. Though a decent amount of prep was involved, it cooks quick and you can use up whatever vegetables you have left in your fridge. It makes for excellent leftovers, too.

TO SHOP: A new rug is the quickest way to make a space feel different. We’re into Ruggable’s new boho collection for the kitchen: there are great patterns and colors, and it’s all fully washable. Shop them here. #partner

TO LISTEN A bunch of our old favorites are coming out with new albums this spring. Jill Scott’s just released “Pressha” from the much anticipated To Whom This May Concern, out February 13 (we might need it on vinyl); and you can preview Iron & Wine upcoming Hen’s Teeth with the new single “In Your Ocean.” 

The return of the beret? • A new Heated Rivalry book is coming this fall (here’s a fun take on the show, and why it was set in the 2010s). • “Everyone is injecting peptides. But what do they even do?” • Studying ovaries could unlock better health and longevity for women. • Everyone’s just putting their books in big piles.

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