There is something to finding a comfort in that fact -- in determining within yourself that you are no longer going to let someone push you around; you are no longer going to let others' opinions of you drag you into the mud.

I tend towards extremes (I know you'd never guess that. ha!), which means that I often say "fuck the world" and mean just about everybody, or I am a "love,joy,peace" flowerchild who is more politically correct than the ACLU. If you catch me in either of those polarisations, you find somebody who will either impress the hell out of you or piss you off for eternity, whichever your particular preference.

Right now I've been waffling between assorted versions of each, and kymm is doing a fantastic job of keeping me ... well ... breathing. Thanks, girlfriend.

I've settled into an ongoing system of checks and balances with myselves, and it's really been working for the mutual benefit of all.

This issue was forced by an inadvertant mistake to my notify list (see, if you were subscribed you'd already know who I am) wherein I used my 'personal' email account rather than my 'tesserae' account. After I'd realised what I'd done, I couldn't breathe because I felt paralysed by fear. Then I thought how ridiculous (and kymm helped) the whole thing was -- this strange horrible terror I have of being known for who I really am.

In many ways, being 'out' is more protective and safe for me than being anonymous.

My real name is Renée. Renée Nicole Altson.

In 1996 Spug gave me the first two names as a sort of re-parenting way to help regain my identity. My birth name was "Anneli" -- a name I hated with everything inside of me. I hated it because it was my mother's name, and I hated my mother. I hated it because people always pronounced it wrong, spelled it wrong, and made fun of it for most of my life. I hated my name because I began to associate a lot of negative things with it, and I wanted a new name -- reminiscent of the name changes in the old testament - when people changed their loyalties from the darkness to the light, and became Elijah instead of Elisha, or something like that.

The symbolism was quite meaningful to me: the person who helped me find some sense of myself/ves giving me a name that I could take as a new part of myself; a new statement of my dedication to healing.

Apparently, he went to a local bookstore, sat down with several name books, and browsed until he found one he liked. His two choices were Renée and Nicole -- Renée which meant (quite appropriately) Reborn, and Nicole which meant (also quite appropriately) Victory of the People. He told me I could choose the order, but it wasn't a difficult decision at all.

I legally changed my name by going through the court system, and that has been my name for the past 3+ years.

As a multiple, having an assortment of names in the body is not an unusual thing. But this was different because it represented the emergence of the core part of me -- the self who actively seeks healing and wholeness.

There is already a Renée in the journalling community, and that was part of why I kept my online identity as tesserae. Tesserae is the plural definition of the word tessera. A tessera is a piece of glass, tile, textile, ceramic, etc. used in a mosiac. Tesserae is the plural. I chose that word as my self-representation because I believe that it represented who I am -- all of the parts of me choosing their place in the mosaic of my life.

I'm not sure how I feel about all of this self-divulgence.

I've already told a small group of very trusted friends about my real name, and found it incredibly liberating. There's nothing like being known and loved for who you really are.

I plan to keep the tess pseudonym because it's how I am known, and it represents me as well as my 'true' name. But after discussing what happened on my notify list tonight, I expressed my desire to my husband to be known for who I am, and he approved of the decision. My safety is not something I take lightly, but I despise cowardice.

If anything, I feel I have strengthened my haven; given myself more ammunition against the abusers of my past. They can't win, and they can't destroy me. I know this because of one simple reason:

They live in the darkness, and I live in the light.

And that's all that matters in the end.

...