I’ve been in Colorado for nine months, to the day.
Nine months. A (re)birth.
This isn’t the first time I’m feeling reborn. I remember a wonderful, joyful feeling of rebirth six years ago, for my first birthday in California, which was a little more than nine months after my move from Europe to California.
This Coloradan rebirth is coming with a lot of symbolic, yet real, events attached: autumn with actual autumn-like weather; the final letting go of some situations that belong to the past; the official approval of my legal name change.
The official approval of my legal name change from the county courthouse of where I’m now living came in the mail yesterday — unexpectedly early, and I’m still reeling from it. I’ve wanted this for so long and even known the details of my new, chosen name for quite a while. And yet, although my chosen name is not that different from my old given name, it’s my own choice and it reflects me, how I really identify and feel about myself. And now that it’s official, it redefines me, or presents me in a different way, to the world. Officially. (At least, that’s how it feels to me.) It’s a biggie. A real biggie. It’s HUGE.
After nine months in Colorado, this person that I’m choosing to be is born.
The Little Prince and the Fox 