A Pen Name is a Chance to Breathe
At fourteen I wanted to run away to another country and change my name, so my mother would never find me. I also wanted to die. Living with a mother who terrifies you will do this to adolescent dreams.
Decades later, dying will probably take care of itself and I’m living in my third country. My fourteen-year-old self would probably thank me for that, if she wasn’t so pissed off that I haven’t changed my name.
By the time I reached my twenties, taking another name, even to write with, felt like weakness.
I wanted to be authentic and unafraid. One name, one life, one person. It seemed so simple — I didn’t realise that damaged, frightened fourteen-year-old would always be with me. Giving the lie to who I am, who I want to be — if I even know who that is. Personal identity is trickier than I thought.
So, I do want to try another name, just to write by, however briefly. To have even a moment of the freedom I imagined at fourteen, to breathe and be reborn without a mother. I want to write as though she’s not standing behind me, about to speak. Will the voice be sugar-coated, brittle and false? Or will the screaming start? Three countries and she’s still with me too. Especially when I write.
I can bang my head against a wall until I think my skull might crack. But neither the child nor her mother will leave.
Maybe authenticity is over-rated.
It has been liberating to discover that the family name I’ve clung to since birth is a fake. My great-great grandfather mislaid his real name as he travelled first-class from England to Sydney. He travelled onward with a new name and a new wife he never married. To a third country and a new life. But I suppose it wasn’t that simple for him either.
We’ve found your lost name, Mr Robinson. My family has other names lying around, given but barely used. I think I can give them a new life. So here I am: Lina Neild Robinson. Though I don’t know if my name is authentic, I feel real.
Thank you, Lina, Neild, and Mr Robinson. Thank you for giving me some time to breathe.
