I Regret Changing My Name

Why you should get your Real ID right now.

When I married nearly 11 years ago, I agonized about changing my name.

Look at those fresh-faced babies!

Could I be a “good feminist” if I took Josh’s name? If I didn’t, would it mean a lifetime of questions from our kid’s school and friends and everyone? Would I get mail erroneously addressed to Molly Katt, forever and ever?

Ultimately, I decided to change my name from Molly Marie Mogren to Molly Marie Mogren Katt, where my middle name became Marie Mogren.

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Or at least that’s what I thought.

In 2023, I renewed my driver’s license. And because I knew that one day, maybe, flying would require a Real ID, I decided to get mine. The requirements are totally confusing, so I brought a stack of papers. My birth certificate, my marriage license, my passport, my social security card. And a car insurance statement. And a bank statement. And my driver’s license.

After waiting a full hour at the DVM, they called my number and I carried my thick folder to the counter. I explained that I wanted a Real ID, and the representative rolled her eyes. They aren’t even requiring that for another year or two. Why bother?

Why bother? Well, because I am already here and I have all the stuff and spending the day at a DMV isn’t fun for anyone, including employees.

I handed her my pile. My passport checked the box for “Proof of Identity and Date of Birth.” My “Proof of Minnesota Residence”, which required two documents, was another story. My Driver’s License counted, but my second form was… iffy.

Why isn’t your full name on your bank statement? she asked, annoyed.

I looked. It wasn’t. Because it had my name and my husbands, the allotted space cut off my name at Molly Marie Mogr…

Shit.

I told her one sec, and pulled out my insurance statement. She said it was too old. So searched through my email and found a more recent one, which I emailed to her and paid to print off. Once she’d collected all my items, she told me: I’m not sure if they’ll accept this, they’re very picky. But if not, you’ll just have to come back.

Come back? Are you high? She took my photo, I forked over my $46, and left.

A month passed, and I finally received something in the mail from the State of Minnesota— a notice that there was an issue with my paperwork and I needed to reapply.

I made an appointment at a different DMV. This time, I would be extra prepared, bringing more proof of residence. I paid $10 for parking (on top of childcare, which added an extra $30-40), and waited for my appointment. Once they called my number, I walked up to the glass and explained the situation, handing over all my documentation.

Hmm… the woman said. This looks good to me. I completed the paperwork, smiled for the camera, and forked over another $46 and left.

A month later, with my license well past its expiration date, I received another notice: my Real ID had been denied.

I made yet another DMV appointment. When I arrived (paying $50 for parking and childcare), I explained the situation to person checking me in. She found Someone Important to help.

Within thirty seconds, he’d identified the problem: My name was wrong. It read Molly “Marie Mogren” Katt on my driver’s license, passport, all of my bank and insurance documents, and in my brain. But on my marriage license? It was Molly “Marie” Mogren Katt. A clerical error, where someone at some point moved my middle name to the last name slot.

What do I do? I asked, totally perplexed.

You’re going to have to legally change your name. He went on to explain that I’d need to contact Hennepin County District Court, file legal name change paperwork, and wait for a court date.

I couldn’t fucking believe this.

Can I just get my regular driver’s license in the meantime?

Nope, he said. You’ve been flagged and they won’t process anything of yours without seeing your legal name change.

I spent the next morning trying to figure out how to file my case. Thank the lord for a dear family friend who’s a retired judge and helped me navigate the system. I am a college-educated, English-speaking person and struggled to figure this out. Eventually, I filed all the documents and paid $297 for processing.

Two months later, my court date arrived. It all happened over Zoom, and I needed two witnesses, who were at least 18 and knew me personally, to take thirty minutes out of their day to act as witnesses. My husband, for whom I harbored name privilege resentment, and our babysitter (who was getting paid to watch our kids while she also sat on Zoom, and I am so grateful!) stepped up. The judge was a total dick, oozing condescension with every question. I understand people might change a name to avoid paying debts, but I really felt my situation was straightforward: a clerical error.

At one point, he asked me about my home’s lot number.

I asked, Do you mean address?

No, he said, irritated. Your lot number. It should be on the deed to your house.

I started to ask my husband, Do you know our lot—

YOU CAN’T ASK HIM!!! the judge shouted. HE’S NOT UNDER OATH!

I didn’t know our lot number, because who fucking does? The judge said I’d need to file for a new court date. Just then, his clerk chimed in, If it’s okay with you, she can send it to me right after this call and we can proceed.

The judge agreed. I almost cried in gratitude.

A few weeks later, my official name change information arrived. And guess what I did next? Yep, went to the DMV, where I paid $41 to renew my regular old license. I still don’t have a Real ID.

On May 7, 2025, you’ll need a Real ID or passport to fly.

Luckily, I have the latter.

But the other thing I’m worried about is the SAVE Act. According to NPR:

As the Safeguard American Voter Eligibility Act heads to the Senate, there has been growing debate on how the bill may affect voting for millions of married women, particularly those who have changed their last names, if it becomes law.

The legislation, known as the SAVE Act, looks to make sweeping reforms on voter registration. It was introduced in response to fears about voter fraud, though research has consistently showed that such incidents are exceedingly rare and not a significant factor in American elections.

Among the most notable changes outlined in the bill is the requirement to prove U.S. citizenship before registering to vote. Acceptable documents will include a birth certificate, U.S. passport, naturalization paperwork and certain versions of the Real ID that indicate citizenship.

Some people will call this left-wing fear-mongering. And I really hope it is.

But to be on the safe side: If you’ve ever changed your name, start dealing with your documentation now.

November might feel like a bazillion years away, but it’s coming. It took me five months, over $500, and a dozen or more hours to get to a point where I can even apply for my Real ID. And I’m lucky! A lot of people don’t have the time or money to deal with this.

I know people change their names for a lot of valid reasons. I like my new name, but also liked my old one and wished I saved myself the headache.

If you’re on the fence, might I suggest just sticking with it?

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Have you changed your name? How do you feel about it now?