What Is Your Name?

Lately, several people have asked me about my name. Mostly, people want to know why I have kept "Lyons" since my divorce. All I can answer is "it's complicated."

Practically, I have kept "Lyons" for two reasons. One, it is immensely helpful to have the same last name as your children. Two, most of my professional accomplishments have been published under the name "Lyons." While I am early in my career, I have published a number of journal articles, book chapters, encyclopedia articles, etc under that name.

If I could go back in time, I would have either kept my maiden name when I married or asked that we both hyphenate our names. But since I did not make either of those choices at that time, it's silly to wonder "what if."

When I was completing my PhD, my university asked me what name I wanted on my diploma. Friends can testify that I spent about a month pondering that seemingly simple question. In my innermost self, I am a "Johnson-Pace," which has never actually been my name at all. I am proud of my family name - both of my family names. They remind me of the wonderful people on both sides of my family who have raised me, loved me, nurtured me, and guided me. For 22 years, I was unequivocally "Pace." But then for 7 years I was "Lyons." Removing the last name won't change the fact that for almost 1/3 of my life (now more like 1/4), I was "Lyons." It's my story.

So, I chose to keep both of my legal last names and graduate as "Pace Lyons." Many people just call me "Dr. Lyons." I don't like being called "Dr. Lyons," because it ignores 22 years of my identity. If two names feels burdensome, my ear would rather hear that shortened to "Dr. Pace" than "Dr. Lyons." But in the end, people call me what I was going by when they met me, and as long as I know they're talking to me in a positive way, I typically answer.

Divorce is the most isolating thing I've ever gone through, even though I chose it, and there are so many questions that emerge as you're going through a divorce that you can't anticipate. One of the questions I struggled most with in my recovery was "What is your name?"

A lot of young people are in such a hurry to grow up, to leave their families, and to become who they are destined to become. Or so they tell me when they come to my office in the middle of an emotional breakdown. But it's funny what even 5-10 years can do to that narrative. Eventually, the story shifts from breaking free to restoration. It's not unlike Brueggemann's Orientation, Disorientation, and Reorientation in the Psalms. Yes, we may want to make different choices from our parents, and that is 100% healthy and necessary. But the older I get, the more I want to tap into the roots of my family tree, to carry my heritage with pride, and to accept that some of the "me-est" parts of me are family traits. I've personalized them and made them my own, but they are part of a story that is bigger than just me.

Here are some of the traits of my family that bloom prominently in me: music, performance, wit, love of travel, reading, creating, building, designing, decorating, sewing, crocheting, shortness, feminism, preaching, generosity, and teaching.

I have a degree in engineering (my dad's father Jack), and I am an ordained minister (my mom's father Stanley), a quilt maker (my mom's mother Colyne), a crocheter (my dad's mother Roberta), and a stubborn, independent teacher who celebrates the performing arts (both of my parents). As a child I insisted not to be a musician because both of my parents were music teachers. And now look at me. I am a teacher who sings constantly. I am one-of-a-kind, but I bloom from my family's tree without a doubt.

Next time someone asks you for your name, or you write it down on a form, pause for a minute and reflect. What is your name?