So I have just started a new job at a new company as some of you who follow me on certain social media shores might know. It’s all very exciting, meeting new people, learning new teams, new systems and all of these newness that come with change. However, there is something that’s new that I didn’t expect nor have I experienced in a long time, my name.

Because I joined a new place and obviously had to fill out some forms, I use my legal name. In what seems like a blink of an eye I have become Michelle again. I know it’s pretty odd to say again because it is been my name since birth but just because it was my name doesn’t mean I have used it really in a while. People have been calling me Michelle over the last week or so, which has been quite interesting because sometimes I forget that it is my name.

The thing is, I have been Mich for almost eight years and sometimes I forget that Mich is short for Michelle. Before the birth of “Mich” Michelle was there, what I am finding really interesting is I don’t mind the reemergence of Michelle. I find myself writing Michelle in my email, I find am introducing myself as Michelle in this new company when people talk to me. I like being Michelle. That is not to say I don’t like being called Mich anymore or the many variations that people are chosen over the years. But there’s something about becoming Michelle again.

I recently had the incredible pleasure and honour having breakfast with one of the people that I have known me the longest in my life and one of my oldest friends. I teased him about posting some pictures and finally letting the world “meet” telescope guy (a family nickname). He agreed so naturally I let loose on instagram, I tagged him in a few stories and posted a photo of the two us, “telescope guy revealed”.

Within an hour posting these photos on separate days, I got a few messages from people wanting to know who he was. “I’ve never seen you post about this person” a few people said. Rather than be cheeky or cheekier in my responses I found myself saying: “This is a person that knew me when I was Michelle.” For most people that seemed a little bit arbitrary because what does that mean? But for some, much to my surprise they actually understood. Because the “Mich brand” is so pervasive that most people don’t actually think I have a full name. They just imagine my parents to be eccentrics who just chose a fall letter name for the for their kid – that would have been dope.

Becoming Michelle again I find in itself to be a journey of self-discovery. Where I am thinking about who I am and who I used to be and who I wanted to be and want to be. When I think about the people who knew me when I was Michelle. The people who know my story from its beginning. I begin to wonder how Mich has taken Michelle over and how those relationships are becoming converted. I think about the people who have only known Mich how do not know Michelle, or ever glimpse of her. I worry that something of the girl that was has been lost to the woman that is.

I love being Mich, she has served me with grace, vibrance, a cantankerous disposition at times, a crazy love for life and the world. She has seen me through pain and held me in moments when my heart could only break silently. She was there when I took risks, she taught to be bold and full of fire. She wanted to love everyone and be there for any that asked, she gave more her energy had to spare – forcing more of an introvert out every day. She showed me how to smile through pain, and then she dimmed to fit the world she was in.

Michelle was more out going, but very picky about the company she kept, she loved her DJ ( Mich does too) and would go to war for her. Her friends were smaller but meant less drama. She loved home and was often afraid to be too far from it. She loved the movies and had ten cups of coffee a day! She was an academic and journalist all day, and picked fights with everyone. She never cried in public but she never cried alone. She saw the world as a story, one she would rewrite everyday.

In becoming Michelle again, I’m starting to wonder: Who is dominant, which of these two women do I need to take forward in this new phase of my life. Who the current holder of this soul and where is it headed? Will Mich or Michelle triumph or is there someone in-between?

Maybe becoming Michelle again is just the tonic the doctor ordered for Mich in this horrid pandemic.

And yes, you can still call me Mich (pronounced Mish)!