Introducing Amy May
Changed my name and told no-one
Yes, I appointed myself a new name. This is not a result of some shamanic initiation but rather a self-reclamation.
May was my Grandmother Olive’s, second name. I never knew her as she died when I was a baby. What I know of her is very limited to a story of “illegitimacy”, grief and rage.
Through the work of Perdita Finn, I have gotten to know her beyond the veil.
I’ve had paradigm shifting conversations with my mother and sister during this time, and through the practice of praying and turning to Olive for help, I have accessed the magic and miracles of what it means to be resourced and protected by the unseen.
I’ve begun introducing myself as Amy May in community spaces but it’s not been announced publicly in any way because honestly it felt cringe.
But since when has “cringe” ever stopped me?
When my dear friend and teacher Maya Joy referred to me as Amy May in a poster promoting a voice activation workshop we ran together recently, I was surprised that she had noticed, but it felt so good and True.
I also had a Mother Nurture member address me as Amy May in a personal email and it further affirmed how important it is for ME to acknowledge it the way others were.
So here I am.
I don’t need you to call me Amy May, my name is still just Amy. It resonates deep in my bones to be Amy.
The reason Amy feels like home to me is probably surprising to you because it is not actually my official first name.
I was born Jennifer Amy Mabin. Amy is my second name but no-one has ever called me by my first name, Jennifer.
I have no problem with the name Jennifer whatsoever, but it is simply not me. It is not my name. It is not a name anyone has ever called me or I’ve called myself.
My parents decided to make my first name Jennifer, even though they knew they would be calling me Amy, because the order of Jennifer Amy sounded better to them than Amy Jennifer…
Maybe Amy also feels like home because it’s an anagram of May. They belong together.
There is definitely resentment around the fact that I have to introduce myself as Jennifer in official / bureaucratic environments. When Bradley and I got married I had to sign as Jennifer Amy Rogerson…I mean, who the fuck is that person?! Not me.
It was enough for me to get used to Amy Rogerson (which I’m onboard with; it was very intentional and conscious on my part to take his surname. This does not make me anti feminist).
But officially, I am not even Amy Rogerson. I am Jennifer Amy Rogerson. (!)
Who I am, in Truth, is Amy May.
Words hold frequency. If Prayers of the Cosmos is teaching me anything it’s that language holds more meaning beyond just literal and linear understanding. There is mystical, cosmic and intellectual influence.
As an Aries sun, the first sign of the zodiac, the statement I AM is also very indicative of my essence. It matches my human design as a generator, leader, trail blazer and co-creator.
To resolve dissonance I hold around what comes after I am is symbolic for the season of life I am in as I root deeper into following my soul’s blueprint.
One of those expressions has been learning guitar this year with Maya and literally writing and sharing my owns songs as medicine in my work. There is nothing more true to my essence than that! And to be honouring Amy May fits in with this season of rooting down and remembering.
To go through the red tape to change a name in this country is incredibly laborious and can take years.
I will likely do it, but for now, embodying Amy May is the first step. Like I do with everything else, the official step always comes last.
I teach myself before I train in anything. I certify myself before someone else certifies me. I embody, before all else.
Especially in my work to honour my channel as a medicine woman. And of course choosing May from one of my ancestors, has everything to do with it. And not just any ancestor, but the grandmother that carried my egg in her womb.
May chose me. As did both of my children choose their names.
I chose Amy but was given Jennifer in service to apparently “sounding better”.
This says something profound about what was a priority in those days or at least for my parents, it’s not the essence or what is inside that counts, it’s how it appears and sounds to others that mattered most…it’s no wonder I serve Truth now above all else
An essay for another time…
For now as always, in love and service,
Amy May