What's in a name?

A very long time ago, inside a parked car in a dark parking lot, listening to Jethro Tull’s Dot Com, I asked BigGeek if he would like me to change my last name after we were married. It was not a trick question. And no matter what the answer, I wasn’t planning on “reconsidering” my engagement to him. I just wanted to know. That’s all.

In my teens, I had an opinion about the issue. A rather strong opinion. I would absolutely not want to change my last name after I got married. I would say categorically. It was a question of my identity. A part of who I am and all that humbug. Someone pointed out helpfully, that I would be keeping my father’s name anyways. So it was just as patriarchal. I would have to switch to my mother’s maiden name and she to her mother’s maiden name and so on until we ran out of last names or ancestors or both. It was obviously not a workable idea. So, a few days later I had another brainwave. Forget the past, look to the future. How about if daughters inherit their mother’s last name and son’s their father’s? That would work out rather nicely. Surprisingly though, I did not find much support for the idea back then, but I still think is a terrific idea. Or how about husband’s taking on the wife’s last name? That trend seems to be catching on quite nicely in Europe. I am a big fan of a single family name. It’s just so cohesive and unmessy. No hyphens, no long lastnames. No spending an eternity trying to spell them to some dumb schmuck on the phone. Which last name to take would be one of the many things under discussion when talking marriage. Or just choose a third name. Altogether different. Well maybe not that one. Because it might just be so hard to trace the family roots back if one wanted to. But it’s a good idea nevertheless.

In the dark car, BigGeek pondered over the question. “It’s not a trick question.” I said. “OK. I’d like you to change your name.” “On a scale of 1-10, how important is this to you?” I wasn’t letting go. Not just yet. “Give to me straight. The truth.” “An eight”, he said. An eight??? An eight? That’s pretty high. “I had no idea it would be this important to you.” I was amused and surprised. “It’s very primitive. The instinct is very primitive. But you don’t have to if you don’t want to. I know it’s unreasonable.” I didn’t care. Last names didn’t mean much to me. “No, I’ll change it if it means so much to you. I don’t care. But when we have a child, I would like s/he to have my maiden name as a middle name. Deal?” He nodded. And the song ended and so did the conversation.

I did change my name. I was filled with trepidation because it seemed like a monstrous task. Changing my name on every piece of financial document would not be easy. But I was surprised. When I called my bank, my credit cards, my HR department, the mortgage company, social security, passport they all changed the name without asking for a shred of evidence. Ok, not all.. The social security and passport needed a copy of the marriage license. But it was quite painless, even though it took a year until most of my documents were reissued to me in my new name. I changed my name almost two years after we were married. When I was expecting Chip. Do I regret it? Not one bit. And I would be just as happy if many years from now, Chip were to come up to me and tell me he was going to take his wife’s last name. Because, what’s in a name?