Forgettable

Occasionally I write these posts while the TV is on.  They probably don't end up being my most thoughtful entries, but I love NCIS and it is on all of the time.  I'm not sure that is a good thing because like an opened candy bar or a bottle of good wine, if I know it's there I'm going to want some.  There is another crime fighting show that has recently grabbed my interest though, Unforgettable.  The main character remembers every detail of every day of her life, which is fascinating to me since I can barely remember what happened an hour ago.  

While that character's memory allows her to access details to solve murders she also is haunted by memories of her past.  I never had a good memory, and it got significantly worse in college while working with photography chemicals without gloves on.  Except for painful events, those I remembered vividly and would replay them over and over in my mind.  I remembered that I was a weak girl who didn't stand up for herself.  Desperate for attention; someone who settled.  The memory of who I was was so distasteful to me that I destroyed almost all of the photographs that I had of myself as a teenager.  

At my divorce hearing the magistrate told me that I could change my name back at that time for free, if I waited I would have to pay.  I hadn't actually considered it until he mentioned it, a logistical detail that had slipped by, but it was an interesting thought.  Who did I want to be?  Right then.  Giving back my married name felt like the right decision.  I was not that person any longer, but I definitely was not the insecure, depressed doormat that I was when I had my birth name.  So did I want to take that identity back?  I briefly considered not having a last name.  That is actually how I sign my art work...Leslie.  Then I thought about how often I need to fill out online forms that had required fields.  So how often would that screw me over.  In the end, I took my "maiden" name back.  It felt strange at first like it was an old style of clothing that I could not identify with.  But eventually I dressed it up to be more current.  I don't feel distain for that young girl any longer, I feel compassion.  I wish that I could go back in time and help her find herself.  No matter what her last name was.