Maiden Names: A Crone's View

I remember distinctly having an uncomfortable conversation with his sister. She kept asking me what was ‘wrong with her family’s name,’ how she ‘kind of wished she had kept it herself when she married...’ (Forget the insanity of a women who *did* change her name lamenting the loss of her former name, as a way to make me want to change it to the name she no longer had... it will only give you a headache.)

I did counter with the standard rebuttal: “Are you implying something is wrong with my family’s name?”

When jabbed with “If you really loved my brother, you’d want to have his name,” I’d counter with, “If he really loved me, he could then take mine.”

When poked with a sharp stick of a comment such as “If you loved him, you’d forget about some ‘theory’ you have, and do this simply because it means so much to him,” I poked back with “If he really loves me so much, he’d tell his family to respect me, just because I mean so much to him.”

Naw, it didn’t do much but make us each dig our heels in. But hell, she & I would have many other issues over the years, so in reality, it was no big deal. (Hubby’s pouting was worse anyway.)

But I never did give in & change my name. (In fact, I did give in a bit, and allowed our son to have his father’s last name - when you are pregnant &/or just have delivered 9+ lbs of human, naturally, you just can’t fight everything anymore.)

Anyway, as this second wedding was approaching, I was rather clear on my contempt on brides changing their names - not contempt for the family’s name, but the practice of women giving up their name, their id, their marker if you will.

To be honest, it seems like some archaic method of notating ownership. Much like a male dog peeing on a bitch, human males need to mark her, so that all future males know she belongs to him.

I just hate that crap.

And, to be honest, it’s no minor undertaking to change your name. It’s not just your drivers license & social security card, but your name one every single account, membership, & id/paperwork that you have.

That’s a hell-of-a-lot-of forms, and too many hours spent on the phone listening to easy listening music & taped phone promptings. Changes of address are a royal pain, and that can be done with one from at the post office to get you started... the thought of it becoming a full time job for a few weeks, just to satisfy some patriarchal (Yes, this is the feminist community, remember? We believe in history & facts here!) ‘need’ is beyond my comprehension, & more than I can stomach.

That said, I have a confession to make. And this one’s gonna cost me some elbowing in the ribs, some frowns, and maybe even the loss of a rung on the feminist ladder.

My wedding gift to Derek was the changing of my name.

Now before you grab your irons, your iron fry pans, or use your iron fists & try to take me down a peg, let me explain.

Number 1, neither he nor anyone in his family had any qualms with my retaining my ‘maiden name.’ In fact, Derek knew the score long ago, and didn’t mind that score. It was never an issue, only a discussion. - Well, ok, maybe a well-placed joke or two about it -- the perfect zinger at the perfect moment. But honestly, never a ‘will ya’ out of the bunch.

So why’d I do it then?

Well, given that our marriage, the ceremony, was not super traditional (hell, even our meeting wasn’t even customary), that we both had ‘been there, done that before,’ & that we didn’t even plan to have the symbolic ring exchange, I wanted some symbol, something special that was ‘just us.’

Weddings are typically full of symbols. Such as the wedding dress. All in white, she’s to glide towards him, the most beautiful (by cultural ideals anyway) that she’s ever been. She’s dressed in all the ‘appropriate’ symbols. She is goodness, in virginal white, with full skirt, showing the promise of providing future heirs; she is packaged for others to look at and envy, yet with eyes only for him - or at least that’s to whom she is led, with veiled eyes, by her previous owner (her father).

All feminist decoding aside, there was no way to promise him a pure status (my children aside, he & I had tasted the fruits of marriage long ago!), nor any other symbol I could think of, to show him that this time, this marriage was different.

Instead of agonizing over ‘the perfect white princess dress’ I agonized over what symbol, some detail, or gift I could give him that would show that I was deeply committed to him, to our bond.

Yes, I know that our bond had been created long ago, but still, being a female, and somewhat romantic, I wanted that ‘something’ in the worst way.

I could have written vows (and lord knows how well that would have worked with my giggles!), but those were words. We had spoken plenty of those before. And don’t all couples talk of such things, at least as ‘pillow talk?’ How unique are words such as ’Really, this time I mean it, like never before’ - surely he’d heard that before...

Money is not our deep strength at this time, so the fancy purchased thought or symbol was out.

After some serious soul searching, I thought the best I could do, was to offer that which no other man had already received: I, the non-traditional, would do the traditional thing, and change my name.

The more I thought about this, the more perfect it became. It was something I had not done before, something he was not expecting or demanding, something that came from the heart. It is also a symbol. A symbol of my trusting him enough that I could lay down some of this ‘femi-nazi attitude,’ a symbol of submission to him, as a man, from me, as a woman. A symbol that means ‘belonging to’ if only in some small sense...

‘Small sense?!’ After that long tirade, I say ‘small sense?’

For me, at this time, it really is. It’s weird to go from one name to another. And if you call me by my legal name in a crowd, or on the phone, I may not answer to it yet -- even after two years. But it feels right somehow.

Of course, if someonone were to ask me how I feel about the issue of brides changing their names, I would have to say I'm against it. I still don't see the purpose of changing your identity. Unless, of course, it's the only meaningful gift you can really give and you'd like to.