Why Do So Many People Still Insist I Use My Husband’s Last Name?
To be clear, I’m not trying to say what’s right when it comes to the names we choose to embrace—or not. The decision to change your name is deeply personal. I asked a handful of women I love and respect about their choice and their answers varied. My friend Chelsea, 31, from Detroit, got married in September, and while she added her husband’s name on her work email and all her social accounts, she still hasn’t gotten around to filing the paperwork to make Chelsea Appleby Fugate her legal name. “I decided I wanted to keep my last name because it's part of my accomplishments and identity,” she said. “But I also wanted to take his because I wanted to be linked to him and so our kids (if we have any) will share a same name with both of us.”
"I’m third-generation Japanese American, and my last name is something that connects me to my roots."
But for Lacy Kuhlenschmidt, 31, from Murray, Kentucky, not taking her husband’s last name was never an option. “I changed it a day after we got married,” she says. “I was so excited to showcase my new name. I’ve wanted to be married basically my whole life, and there were times I didn't think it would ever happen. I love having my husband’s last name.”
For Kelsey Saia, 31, from Denver, the decision came about more gradually. “My mom hyphenated her maiden and married name, so growing up I always assumed I would do the same,” she said. “My partner supported whatever I decided; I think we may have even briefly chatted about us both hyphenating our last names together, which I am sure he would have done had I felt strongly about it. I didn’t. Then, closing in on almost one year of marriage, I felt like I needed to make a decision and weighing my options was suddenly much easier. I wanted to change my last name to be the same as my husband's because we were a team.”
And for Naomi Hirabayashi, 34, of Brooklyn, keeping her maiden name was an important way to honor her heritage. “I’m third-generation Japanese American, and my last name is something that connects me to my roots,” she said. “My husband is also first-generation Scottish American and his last name, Campbell, carries a lot of meaning for him. We talked about it a few months before we got married, and he was incredibly supportive. He understood this was my decision, and respected how important it is to me to keep my birth name, the name I have built a life, career, and identity around."
“It’s kind of funny,” she adds, “because my mom purposefully didn’t give me a middle name because she wanted me to make Hirabayashi my middle name when I got married. Whoops! Still don’t have a middle name! But with a last name as long as mine, I still feel fulfilled character-count-wise.”
For me, it’s not that I mind being associated with my husband via his last name. Sometimes when we’re killing it at trivia or have just finished a joint project we’ll even high-five and say “Team Walker” to congratulate ourselves on a job well done. I feel OK about referring to myself as just a Walker in that specific instance because I know that outside of that, my husband respects what my chosen name is.
That respect and acknowledgment is key. That’s what the African slaves, Lucy Stone and, yes, the Handmaids didn’t get. But it’s 2018 now, and there’s no excuse for calling women by any other name than the one she’s chosen for herself.
