Yesterday, I received my passport in the mail, just one-and-a-half weeks after I applied for it. This is a big deal for two reasons: First, it didn't take six to nine months, as I was warned it might. Second, I changed my name without a court order, marriage license, or divorce decree, and they gave me the passport in my new name.
When my spouse and I got married, we decided to merge our names (he was Pauley and I was Connor). However, when we found out that we were going to have to pay $800 for a court order to get the same name-changing benefit that any heterosexual couple can get for fifty bucks and a marriage license, we were furious. We refused, and instead decided to simply start using our new names.
The passport was the last piece of identification I had yet to get in my new name. It took a lot of documentation -- sworn affidavits from my mother and sister, and five years worth of financial records -- but one-and-a-half weeks later, I can now hop across to Mexico for cheap tequila whenever I want.
It feels like that moment when the captain turns off the seat belt sign, and the flight attendant says, "You are now free to to move about the cabin." It doesn't matter that I don't need to get up and use the facilities, it just feels good to know I can.