Amelia Carolyn was the name my mom was planning on naming me before I was born, but she ended up deciding on “Amy.” She didn’t know any Amys and thought it was a pretty name. Indeed… many people that year seemed to arrive at the same conclusion. In the year I was born, Amy was (I think) the third most popular girls name. I think I was 30 before I was ever in a class, extra-curricular activity or work environment where there were no other Amy’s. 


In my younger years, I dreamed about being famous one day. Or at least well known for a talent. Or wildly influential in some way. I was going to be a singer. A researcher. A fashion designer. An author. My pen name–the name I wanted to be known to the world as, was Amelia Carolyn. It sounded sophisticated, sexy, different. 

I was always intrigued by the idea that, by having a different name, I might’ve become a different person. What experiences would I have had? What interests? Who would my friends be?

Four months ago I quit my job without a plan. Three months ago I moved in with my boyfriend. Two months ago he proposed and I now live with my fiance and am planning a wedding. (When I do something, I seem to go full throttle.) Talk about transitioning into a new life. 

When I thought about this blog, and thought about what I’d be writing about, the idea of “Amelia Carolyn” seemed natural. I think of the name as a kind of inner self. A ‘me’ that has yet to evolve. A woman I can become. A woman that journeys with me, watches over me and protects me. I can expand into her and create a space for my voice and my energy as I transition into this next phase of my life. 

So welcome to Amelia Carolyn.