June 2, 2026

The past couple weeks I’ve been in the process of changing my name. First, I had to sit before a judge for five minutes two weeks ago, then I waited over an hour this morning to discover they had no record of the appointment I had scheduled. 

I remembered two distinct things from that experience as I stood in front of the teller window: the way the lady wore her short, spiky hair, and a turquoise-colored pinky ring. I waited a few moments patiently, and discovered she was able to process my request in mere minutes. She handed me a document stating when to expect the new card, and the ordeal was essentially over. It seemed too easy. She said I may need to return in three hours, and I had not prepared for that turn of events. So I asked her to confirm that I don’t need to come back, and she relayed that I was good to go. After waiting in a room smelling of urine and with another guy two seats down that drooled on his shirt as he napped, the briskness of this interaction was greatly welcomed. 

And so, for now, the drama associated with my name change has mostly died down, with the exception of small hiccups here and there. I told myself, in the event I ever got married again, I promised I would never change my name again. And I’m sticking to that promise.

Remember those promises we tell ourselves? The ones we share, the ones we swear on the Bible we will never commit, the ones we make, because we know keeping them makes us look good, in some way. 

Most of us have heard the traditional marriage ceremonial lines: “Do you, take so-and-so, to be your lawfully wedded spouse, to have and to hold, in sickness and in health, til death do you part?” This is all supposed to be a question apparently, and perhaps even a rhetorical one at that. If I’m standing in front of a bunch of people in a white dress, you can bet I’m not gonna lie. I take marriage very seriously. I’m in it for the long haul, no matter what it costs me. 

The cost to my life was grand, and oh-so real. I’ve spent thousands of dollars the past two years attempting to navigate, and ultimately exorcise, myself and my being from the drama and trauma that came from being married to someone who broke all the promises, beginning on day one nonetheless. I’m the type of woman that if I promise to hold something for you, be it a purse or a long-kept secret, I’ll do that for you. Because being in relationships requires a certain level of vulnerability, and I’m willing to risk that for the cause. You have to learn to open up a little, or you will deny yourself and the other person the opportunity to love and care for all aspects of you, even if your true self shows somewhere in the middle of all this. 

When we hold onto someone, or an idea, too tight, our minds seem to shrink as we hyper-focus, forcing us to forget our other senses, including intuition. I was definitely caught up with the idea I still need to keep all promises I ever made, even when others fail at theirs. Eventually I had to look at my past and accept I couldn’t change anything about it. Moving on did require me to change, and not just my last name. 

I realized everyone, like me, has the right to change their mind about who they connect with and who they love. No one should ever be forced to make a promise to someone or something they never felt connected with, nor should anyone ever feel compelled to commit. True relationship and connection is not for the faint of heart. Never go into it blindly, if you can help it. While promises have their place, commitment to another should never replace the vow we make to ourselves to hold true to our deepest dreams and desires. Don’t let go of yourself to latch onto someone or something else. This is something I wish I had learned decades ago, and now, at the ripe age of 51, this truth is finally taking root within me. 

So, before I go and make promises I don’t know if I will keep, I will choose to remember – and center – my needs and values first. Because if I don’t, who will? Then I will have a clearer head if the time ever comes for me to say “I do” again.

In today’s story, “To Have And To Hold,” a woman trapped in a difficult, uncommitted relationship tries to escape her predicament, only to find mixed results. This flash fiction reminds us how we can choose to hold onto people and things, even when having them in our lives is harmful to the expression of who we really are. I hope you enjoy this story! ⚢