What’s in a Name?

Sarah Aswell, a writer and blogger who I read regularly wrote a post about keeping her maiden name since getting married.

I kept my maiden name too. But not at first.

For the first four years of our marriage, I adopted my husband’s last name but never legally changed it. It’s amazing how easy it is for women to simply go by a new name. I had a marriage license and that got me a driver’s license and from there on out I was Amy Pickett.

Until we separated (or what my husband likes to refer to as my marriage hiatus—that’s a whole post on it’s own). Anyway, during our separation, I went back to using my maiden name.

By the grace of the marriage gods, we found our way back together and reconciled. To make our marriage stronger than we had left it, we changed a few things. For one, we kept separate checking accounts. It’s amazing how many squabbles that eliminated through the years. For two, I chose not to take back my husband’s last name.

I like my last name. It was the something that distinguished me from the rest of the class at the beginning of every school year. Rarely could a teacher pronounce Gesenhues (it’s Gay-zen-house). From the first roll call teachers knew who I was. It was also my dad’s last name. Since I was so young when he died, it’s difficult not to hold on tightly to whatever I have from him. To me, his name is strong and unique and fits me.

And as un-feminist as keeping my last name because it was my dad’s last name may be, a part of why I kept it is because I am a feminist. I do believe that my name is a significant part of my identity and giving it up or making it my middle name just because I am deeply in love with somebody doesn’t make sense to me…and the answer, “because it’s tradtion,” is about as legit as because I said so when you’re a teenager.

So yes, my daughter and I do have different last names. But one day, I hope she’ll respect my decision and find a certain amount of strength in it for herself. And sometimes I eo have to clarify to medical office staff, bank tellers, and other random people that I have a different last name than my husband. Most of the time it’s not a big deal, but there are some who act like I just took my bra off in front of them and set it on fire. Of course, I may be imagining their response, just like I imagine them thinking, “Oh, you’re one of those.”

Many family members still send me birthday cards, wedding invites, and other things in envelopes addressed to Amy Pickett. I don’t mind though; I like getting mail.