What’s in a name?

07 Feb 2010 1 Comment

by wordsinheels in Uncategorized Tags: Feminism, Marriage, Names, Wedding

I am a feminist, and I am not ashamed.
But I would like to point out that this doesn’t mean I burn my bras, hate men and have yet to be acquainted with a lady-shave.
You see there is a middle ground between 1950s housewives whose greatest pleasure is cooking for their man (or sole reason for being as they call him) and the hairy anti feminine brigade.
I like dressing up in all my finery, but I don’t like that women are still paid less than men. I appreciate it when a door is held open for me, but then I also hold the door open for others, regardless of gender.
And yet despite being a decidedly modern feminist who knows what she wants and isn’t afraid to go get it etc etc, I have come across a contemporary female quandary which I cannot seem to navigate- at least, not comfortably. I’ll paint you a picture and see if you are any the wiser.
You walk down the aisle, whether in virginal white or not, to the man who will hopefully both love AND respect you for the rest of your life, and proclaim your vows in front of the people that matter.
And then you take his name….or do you?
Some girls don’t even consider an alternative ready to become Mrs whatsit as soon as they enter the world. For others the very idea of changing your name for a man brings them out in hives. The rest of us wade through the connotations and deep and hidden meanings, investigating a marital compromise before the ‘I do’. For instance creating a double barrelled name out of your surnames, or even creating a brand new surname combining both of yours.
The reason for this creativity?
• Do I lose a bit of myself by taking his name? Am I taking losing his identity
• Does this make me his
• Am I joining his family and leaving mine?
• Will I be the same person?
When I mentioned this to my fiancé his face scrunched up like he was trying to understand some of Einstein’s most complicated theories. Turns out he thinks of it as his name not his parents name, so I can keep my family (go figure!). And I’m pretty sure if I had any special attachment to my name he would be all for me keeping my name. And surely if he wasn’t the kind of guy who was ok with it, I would be marrying him would I?
Could it be that we contemporary feminists should just do what makes us happy and screw the worrying?

Hmmmm. This deserves more thought.