I’ve got a whole name in between the name I was born with. I was born Craig Frost. Short and sweet. About as short as it gets, actually. Fewer syllables even than McLovin, who had only one name. When I was five years old my school teacher, Miss Scott, had us clap the syllables in our name to make music. My contribution was, let’s say, snappy.
I was always a little jealous of kids with a middle name, so I made one up. I told everyone my middle name was Thomas. I’m not sure why I made it up, I’m not sure why I told anyone, and I’m not sure why I chose Thomas. I wrote it on my homework. I practiced writing it over and over. I wanted a middle name and I gave myself one, because why not?
When my wife and I married we took each other’s names. In the U.K. you change your name by deed poll, which effectively means… writing it down on a piece of paper, and getting a couple of friends to sign it (and watch you sign). Easy—but still, how many times do you change your name? Finally, it was time to make my fake middle name real.
I snuck it in. I practiced my new signature over and over. I thought about all of the homework that had just become legitimate. I thought about all of my small lies that had suddenly become truth. Well, sort of—I wasn’t Craig Thomas Frost, after all, I was Craig Thomas Atallah Frost. Something completely new. An entire name between my name.
Names are funny. I used to share a name with many people (enough that someone added me to a group chat of Craig Frost’s). Now I don’t share my whole name with anyone, and share my surname with just one person in the whole world, who is also my best friend in the whole world. It’s weird, and it’s wonderful. I’m so grateful that we share it.