Name Change

No, I’m not marrying Indy. I’m changing my last name for other reasons.

My trip to New York turned out to be a bit more heart breaking than I thought it would be. Before I left, I did some research and found out where my parents lived and where they worked. I really wanted to actually search for them, but time was of the essence and I needed as much time as possible to talk to them.

On Sunday, Indy and I pretty much slept the whole day. Indy worked overtime all week to make up for the last minute notice of our trip so he was tiered. I was worn out from having finals, waiting tables, and making a girl’s graduation dress in a week. We fell asleep the moment we sat down in our seats on the plane. Six hours later, I woke up with a kink in my neck from sleeping in a weird position, and I saw we were only a few minutes away from New York. We took a cab to the Plaza Hotel and checked into our incredibly expensive deluxe rose suite because that was the cheapest thing available when we made reservations (apparently a lot of people come into town to see their fathers on Father’s Day weekend). Yes, we could’ve stayed somewhere cheaper, but I knew the talk with my parents might get ugly and staying at a nice place would help me feel better about myself. We fell asleep on the extremely soft bed and pillows the moment we laid down. I think that was probably the most sleep I had ever gotten in a day.

We woke up nice and early the next day and got ready for the long day ahead of us. I dressed up in my favorite cute suit that I had made and pinned my wavy blonde hair back. I figured my parents would take me more seriously if they saw me dressed up like I normally dress when meeting a client for the first time. I figured they might actually see me as the woman I have and not as a little girl.

I wasn’t going to go straight to their home. I wanted to go to each of their works and see how they reacted and see if they even wanted me over. Our first stop was White &Case, the law firm my father worked for. It actually took me a few walks around the block to get the nerve to go inside. Indy sat down in a chair near by because he thought it would be good to give me a little bit of privacy. I asked to see my dad and waited a while for him to finish up with something because he was occupied. The first thing I wanted to do when I saw him was run up to him and hug. I wanted to tell him that I missed him and wanted to know why they were ignoring me. I couldn’t move because of how overwhelmed I felt. The overwhelming feeling got replaced by pure confusion the moment my dad opened his mouth. “Tina, I hope you’re not here to ask for money because you know I would have to talk it over with your mother first.” Money. He thought I was there to ask for money. I hadn’t seen him or talked to him in months and the first thing he says to me is about money.

This upset me for many reasons. Had I been one of my siblings, the moment he saw me he would’ve hugged me, pulled out his checkbook, slipped a generous check into my pocket, and told me to get myself something nice just because he loved me. That’s what he always did. I had seen him do it countless times with my siblings. They would come to visit and that was the first thing he did. I wasn’t upset because he didn’t want to give me money like he did with my other siblings. I was upset because he thought that I had gone to see him just so he could give me money. I didn’t want his money. I was doing perfectly fine on my own. Yes, I was working extra hard so I could pay for school, a nice apartment (with Indy of course), and all the luxuries I had been indulging myself with lately, but I liked the fact that I was able to afford all of it because of what I was doing. I wasn’t getting any of their help, I was doing it all on my own. The harder I work, the more I can afford. I was insulted by what my father had said. I hadn’t had contact with him for months and I thought it wasn’t right for him to assume I was doing miserably without his money since he had no idea how I was doing.

After a moment of silence and lots of self restraint so I wouldn’t blurt out everything that was going through my head, I told him why I was there. I explained that I missed them and wanted to see them because there was a lot I needed to talk about. He said I could come over for dinner so we could talk but that I would have to see my mother to confirm just in case they had plans that he had forgotten about. A two minute conversation. That was all we had before he stood there and have me that I think it’s time for you to leave look. No hug, no I miss you, no I love you, he didn‘t even invite me into his office for a minute so we could chat. I got the signal and said I’d see him later then turned around and left.

When we got in the cab, Indy asked me if my father always acted that way. I explained to him that unfortunately, yes, this was the way he always acted with me, and that I never got use to it.

Our next stop was the NYU Medical Center. Again, it took me a few walks around the block to get the nerve to go inside, and again, Indy waited nearby. This time, I was just going to ask if I could come over for dinner and not bother with anything else that came into my mind. My mother came out, I said hello and that I was in town and asked if it was ok with her if I came over to visit them later (and if I could be a friend). She told me she got off at six so I could come over at seven thirty. I said goodbye and left. I think seeing my mother was a little easier because seeing my father first had helped remind me of how my parents were.

Time passed, and it quickly became time to see my parents. They lived in a very nice (and big) building filled with luxurious condos. Exactly what I had expected. When we went in, I said hello and introduced Indy (but I introduced him with his real name). Dinner was delicious, but horrible at the same time. We ate in silence. Just like the good old days when it was just me and them. Poor Indy was probably nervous and uncomfortable but he just kept looking at me and smiling. I was glad he was there.

After dinner, we all went into the living room and the talking began. I decided to be blunt and say what was on my mind. I told them that my brother had said something to me when he came to visit and I just wanted to know if it was true. Before I had to tell them my mother blurted something out that made we want to runaway from there as fast as I could. I just wanted to know if it was true that she had suffered from Postpartum Depression, but I got more than I bargained for. “The important thing is that we decided to keep you.” Hearing those words made me feel like someone had thrown icy water on me. At fist I thought that they were talking about giving me up for adoption, but once they started talking, I quickly realized what they were really talking about.

I was right about a lot of things. When they got married, they decided they didn’t want anymore children. Their parents had raised my siblings and they didn’t feel competent enough to raise another child without the help of my grandparents. When they found out my mother was pregnant, they both secretly thought the same thing. I think it’s pretty obvious what they thought, so I’m not going to actually say it because it’s a bit of a touchy subject for me right now. They didn’t tell each other, but I guess they finally decided to talk about it very late in the pregnancy. By then, it was too late. They knew it would be hard, but figured they would get past it. What they didn’t count on was my mother’s Postpartum Depression. It was like a chain reaction. My mother wasn’t particularly fond of me, then my father didn’t like me because she was depressed, then my siblings hated me for making her sick. After my mother got better, I guess everyone just didn’t warm up to me.

I just wanted to end the conversation and get away from them as soon as possible. Figures, the longest conversation I’ve had with my parents had to be about how they didn’t want to keep me. We talked for until midnight, and I’m glad they answered some of my questions. They weren’t exactly good answers, but I couldn’t ask for more from them. I realized something that night. They could’ve ended my life before I even started it. Yes, they weren’t the greatest parents, but at least they let me live. That’s the greatest gift they could’ve given me.

When it was time to say goodbye I realized it really might be the last time I saw them. I doubt they’re going to call me or see me because that’s just the way they are. I said my goodbyes and told them I loved them (nothing was going to change that) and left. I did my best to hold it together. Indy just hugged me the on the way back to the hotel. The moment we got to our room, I completely broke down. I was glad there were soft sheets and fluffy pillows. It helped me fall asleep faster.

In the morning, I woke up and found Indy on the phone. He didn’t tell me what who he had called. A few minutes later, a butler came and brought us breakfast in bed. That room was worth every penny. I felt like crap, and Indy and Roland the butler did everything possible to make me feel better. They even prepared a nice bath for me and had a nice romantic dinner set up in our room. I wanted to explore the city, but I just wasn’t up for it.

We came back on Wednesday, and I have never been so happy to be home. Of course, I’m still a little upset form the trip, but I’m doing my best to get past it. I’m keeping myself busy. Besides working at the restaurant, I’ve taken up more clients than usual because I’m taking less classes in the summer so I‘m going to have more time to make more clothes. I’m also going to be going over to Sensei’s place more often because I always feel refreshed after going. I went yesterday and it helped a lot (nothing like meditating and kicking ass to help heal a broken heart). I have also decided to give yoga a second chance and hope this time it doesn’t end with me almost breaking my neck.

I have also decided to do one last thing: change my last name. I’m not doing it out of spite for my parents. I just think it would help me in the healing process. I don’t want my last name being a constant reminder that my parents didn’t want me. I want me changing my last name to mark the beginning of something. A new start. I’m going to try something. They say that if you love someone, let them go, if they come back… I don’t know the rest of it, but you get the picture. I love my family, but I can’t keep torturing myself by trying to contact them and just having them ignore me. I’m going to distance myself a bit. I’m not going to completely cut myself off from them, but I am going to stop trying so hard. I’ve done nothing wrong to them and I don’t like being treated the way they treat me. Maybe they’ll actually wonder why I don’t call anymore and miss me (I highly doubt it but it doesn’t hurt to try).

I also want to change my last name because I want something that sounds really spiffy. I’m keeping Tina as my first name, but the last name has to really go with it. I’m doing this because I’ve noticed business is growing and I want a cool name that people will remember. Especially since I’m looking into possibly opening up a shop after I graduate next year, but that depends on how much business keeps growing.