I had to buy a new pair of shoes the other day. I visited a store where I have a shopper’s card that gives me coupons for each purchase made. The problem? I have no idea where the card has migrated to. At the checkout, the cashier asked if I was member. I replied, “Yes, but I have no idea where my card is.”
“No problem. We’ll just look you up in the system.”
Well, she didn’t know it yet, but that was certainly a problem. I knew that I had accessed the account and updated some information during the past three years, but I no idea what current combination lived in their system.
“Phone number?”
I gave her my number. No matches.
“Name?”
Again, I replied. Again, no success.
“Email?”
The machine responded, “No matches.”
“Address?”
At this request, My mind blurred. I’ve had five addresses in three years. I gave up.
Then, a flash. I realized that I hadn’t purchased shoes there since I received a new phone and accompanying number. I gave her my old phone number – the one I sought out after my husband left to provide a layer over my old life.
Success. It pulled up my married name, the address of my apartment that I got one year out from sudden singledom, and a temporary email that I used for a brief period.
Everything had changed but the birth date.
She updated the account with my current information. Which, other than the address, should remain fairly constant for the forseeable future.
It was a moment of reflection for me. I no longer identify with the woman that had those other data points. I am no longer the innocently married woman that carried his name. I no longer have that phone number that was sought out in the initial fear and desperation of those early days. I no longer live alone; I have now found a new and happy relationship. The email addresses I have now reflect the success of my new life with the writing and the coaching. And, as for the birth date, I will keep that one happily, for each year has brought more wisdom and gratitude than the one before.
Oh, and the shoes are cute too!



