By: Kelly Utt-Grubb for Your Tango.
Married names, like the institution of marriage itself, are not what they used to be.
As women, we have heard all about what we’re “supposed” to do, whether or not it came directly from our parents, now that is a different story. Yet, someone, somewhere along the way told us that taking a man’s last name is a way of demonstrating that we’re committed to our marriage. It’s the best thing for our children because everyone knows that a child should have their father’s last name.
We’ve certainly heard that making the choice sucks.
A lot of us spend hours weighing the options of our name’s worth — even before we’re engaged. We even go so far as to speculate about which celebrity brides will take their husband’s last names. Are we hoping that their choices will somehow provide us a glimpse into a magical crystal ball and reveal a time in the future when this isn’t so damn difficult? But why — this fixated culture of male dominance over women has to start and end somewhere does it not?
When I got married in 1998 I was young and in love, but I knew that I did not want to give up my last name. I spent several hours a day thinking about it. I was in university and did not have to worry about a name change affecting my career, nonetheless I couldn't swallow the idea that I should have to give it up simply because I was female. I mean, come on! I grew up writing this name on the corner of my schoolwork. It was on the back of my soccer jersey in high school, and God only knows how many times my Mum called it (along with my middle name) when I was in trouble.
My husband, luckily, was open to whatever arrangement would make me happiest, but the only nontraditional options I knew about at the time were keeping my name or hyphenating it. Therefore I sought professional guidance, but—by the time the stack of wedding books on my kitchen table had grown so tall that I had to eat my Chinese take-out in the living room—I realised there just was no other way around it.