It occurred to me reading the last letter to myself that I did, I’ve had a different name almost for all of them:

Judy when Mom died
Judi when I got engaged at 16
Judi/Jill when I got divorced/mental hospital at 20
Judith since around the time I was 30.

And I am all those people. It isn’t as important to me that people call me Judith now and it isn’t always the way I think of myself either.

Judy is somehow that happy kid, and it never fit well after Mom died.

Judi was adopted in jr. high when I was trying to be different and since my full name was Judith it always seemed to fit.

Jill was the persona I was going to become for the Christian fiance. She was a gracious lady, and I did not see myself that way at all, but she was NOT me, and that was terrible in many ways.

Judith is who I became when I moved to the east coast after my father died. I had struggled most of my life to be accepted as an adult because of the freckles, looking young, and being short. I could change none of that, but I could take on an adult name, and I did!

They are all me, or parts of me, and I’d never really seen that for each of those major phases of my life I adopted a different name.

Huh!

Judy
Judi
Jill
Judith
jkd (or whatever!)