<\/a>Photo by
flickr user ninasaurusrex<\/p><\/div>\n
Oh, it\u2019s a little thing, I grant you. One word. And it\u2019s so
innocuous that most people don\u2019t even think it\u2019s an issue. When we
got engaged, we got cards addressed to \u2018The Future Mr & Mrs
HisLastName\u2019. One friend remarked she couldn\u2019t wait to address her
first Christmas card to \u2018the HisLastNames\u2019. Another asked if we were
looking forward to be announced at our reception as \u2018Mr and Mrs
HisLastName\u2019. Each time, I\u2019m afraid I’ve shot them down
brusquely \u2013 even though I\u2019m still deciding what to do.<\/p>\n
Why? Well, for starters, I\u2019ve had 30 years of being Lizzie MyLastName,
not Lizzie His. It sounds weird to me, like I\u2019m playacting someone else.
I\u2019d have to change my passport, my bills, my driver\u2019s licence, my
personal emails, my work email, my Facebook – it\u2019s too much damn
work. And the biggest reason for my uncertainty: why should I have to
literally rename myself to my husband\u2019s last name when I get married?
What\u2019s so special about him? (Note: Obviously he\u2019s very special or I
wouldn\u2019t be marrying him, yadda yadda don\u2019t take the ring
back).<\/p>\n
The looks and comments I get when I say these things are rooted in blustering
British patriarchal tradition. I\u2019ve had \u2018But that\u2019s just what
you
do<\/em>\u2019, \u2018Just change it in your personal life, you don\u2019t
have to change your professional name\u2019 and \u2018But don\u2019t you
want<\/em> the same name as your husband and children?\u2019.<\/p>\n
Um, maybe, if I planned on having any children. But he could change his
name. My name is perfectly lovely. And quite frankly, if we did have
kids, plenty of people would call me Mrs HisLastName without me ever
having to change it. And for the person who said \u2018But that\u2019s
just what you do\u2019 (hi, mum! I forgive you because you gave birth to
me), we used to put lead in cans, but hey, we changed our way of doing
things! As Lucy
Mangan said<\/a>, \u201cI\u2019ve only known him six years. How come he
gets to obliterate my history?\u201d<\/p>\n
So, what to do? If I don\u2019t want to change my name to his, equally
he doesn\u2019t want to change it to mine. People have suggested
hyphenating, which is what we would usually do \u2013 but alas, our name
is a spoonerism<\/a>
that equates to \u2018a bird\u2019s balls\u2019, so that\u2019s not the
ideal option after all. I quite like the idea of portmanteau<\/a>-ing
our name because it sounds like \u2018Baroque\u2019; clearly the most
awesome outcome. But he thinks that sounds a bit fake. So, future
husband and I are on a quest to find a new name that we can both change
to. And in an example of patriarchy working for women instead of against
them, this is easier and cheaper for me to do. He has to change it by
deed poll \u2013 I just have to sign my new name on the marriage
licence.<\/p>\n
I\u2019m secretly convinced that this will not happen. Family pressure
will mean he keeps his name \u2013 plus, his profession of author spills
into his personal life, so changing his surname is not the most sensible
thing to do. And my name actually sounds great with his last name. But
while it doesn\u2019t make a whole lot of logical sense to insist on
keeping one man\u2019s name (my father\u2019s) instead of taking
another\u2019s, equally I don\u2019t want to have a visible sign that I
am subsuming my identity into his and becoming \u2018the wife\u2019.
I\u2019m sure we will make a decision \u2013 but more late night
discussions and trying out new signatures may be required.<\/p>\n