Names

"I read in a book once that a rose by any other name would smell as sweet, but I’ve never been able to believe it. I don’t believe a rose would be as nice if it was called a thistle or a skunk cabbage."

— L.M. Montgomery, Anne of Green Gables

In the 1970s, Jennifer was everywhere. One of the defining names of that decade. I share a name with Jennifer Aniston, Jennifer Garner, Jennifer Connelly, and Jennifer Love Hewitt. Same name. Same era.

But my dad spelled mine with one “n.”

That one small difference meant a lifetime of corrections.

It’s Jenifer. One “n,” not two.

These days I go by Jen. Much easier.

A week after my 21st birthday, I got married and took my husband’s last name. That’s just what you did, especially in the South, especially in 2000. I became Jenifer Meller. And somehow, people got Meller wrong too. For nearly 20 years I said some version of:

It’s Jenifer Meller … not Jennifer Miller.

In December 2018, my divorce was finalized. I kept the last name Meller. By then I’d been Meller almost as long as I’d been Bennett, and name changes are a lot of work: paperwork, government office waiting rooms, bank accounts, all of it. I didn’t want the hassle. So I stayed Jen Meller.

Eight years after my divorce, I got remarried. My new husband's name was Brown. Changing my name still wasn’t on my radar. My career, my education, my business, everything was tied to Meller. I figured maybe someday I might decide to have a different name for my personal life and keep Meller for work.

But something shifted. Slowly at first. Then more clearly. I started feeling a pull toward belonging. Not just loving the family I’d chosen, but wanting to be part of it. In name, too.

Around that same time, I found out my ex-husband was in the process of legally adopting his wife’s children. They would become a family. They would all share his last name.

My ex and I don’t have a relationship. We cross paths at big life moments sometimes, a wedding, a funeral. There’s a part of me that will always love him. We shared a lot of years. But he’s not my family anymore. That boundary has been real, and it’s mattered. It’s been a big part of my healing.

All of that made something clear to me. Holding onto that last name no longer felt right. It didn’t feel like me anymore. I also wanted to release that name back to the new family that will carry it now. Not out of obligation. Just a respectful letting go. And I wanted to fully step into the life I’ve chosen.

I thought about going back to my maiden name. I even considered just going by a first and middle name for a while, but in the end, I decided I wanted to change my name from Meller to Brown.

Then came the real question: do I keep Meller for business and use Brown personally? Or do I go all in?

What kept coming back to me was Martha Beck's definition of integrity. She says you have integrity when who you are on the inside is who you are on the outside. No split, no compartments, just one version of yourself. 

In my work and in my personal life, it's the same person showing up. So I chose simplicity. One name. One me.

I knew I would have to rebrand my whole business. New logo, new web address, new LLC. I considered using something not tied to my actual name, but I kept coming back to the same answer. I don't want to come up with something else. I do this work under my name, even when my name changes. It's me.

I get that not everyone would make the same choices. And that's perfectly okay. You do you, and I'll do me.  

Yes, there’s been paperwork: Social Security, DMV, passport, accounts, renaming the LLC, new domain, new logo. All of it. But it feels clean. Clear. Right.

So let me reintroduce myself.

I’m Jen Brown.

My work now lives at jenbrown.com, under Jen Brown, LLC.

Names carry meaning. They hold stories. They mark chapters.

And sometimes, changing your name is part of becoming who you already are.