The Real and True Me

I’m changing my name back. I know. After all the the serious thought, hemming and hawing I put into the decision to become Natalie Burg Vial, I picked the wrong choice. I was just wrong. I tried it on, and it didn’t fit.

I have been annoyed at every piece of mail that has come addressed to Natalie Vial. I roll my eyes at the people in my doctor’s office who look up my file and say, “Oh, Natalie Burg Vial?” Which is insane, because the only reason they have me filed that way is because I told them that was my name. But it feels wrong. It feels like a lie. It’s not romantic or sweet. Every time I hear myself referred too by the (actually rather cool) last name of my (wonderful and loving) husband, I feel the crushing weight of thousands of years of patriarchy grind on my bones.

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Why The Maya Rudolph Show Matters

Every Wednesday, three self-employed friends and I get together for co-working. We’re all successful, entrepreneurial women, so feminism and women’s roles in various industries is a common thread in our conversations. Okay, I’ll be honest, that’s a common thread in all conversations I have with all people. But anyway, I had ensconced myself in my friend’s living room to do an interview while the rest of them were working away in the kitchen when I saw, mid-interview, an email pop up in my inbox from a co-co-worker in the other room with the subject line, “Non-dude show host.”

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