Recently my husband announced that he’s changing his last name – or at least the one he uses publicly – by adding my maiden name of Castle. Here’s his Facebook announcement:
I wanted to let you know that I’ll be changing my public/professional last name to Castle Miller. I wanted a name that reflects a shared identity with the incredible person I’m married to — an identity we share as equals. I’m like six years late on this, but there’s no better time than now!
A lot of people have asked us about it since, so I figured I’d share a couple more details about the decision and how both of our names have evolved.
When we first got married, I expressed to Michael my ambivalence over giving up my last name. As an only child who’s very close to my parents, the tradition didn’t sit right. It seemed like a total denial of my identity without any loss on Michael’s part; and it didn’t reflect the kind of partnership we wanted to have. But ultimately I decided rather than cause a stir I would change my legal name to Miller and make my last name my middle name, as so so so many women have done before me.
I’ve learned since that causing a stir now is easier than causing a tornado tomorrow. The next three years were difficult for many reasons. One of the hardest challenges we had was working in a very male-dominated field where women’s work was – as one person told me – “just gravy.” I felt my identity blur. I wasn’t becoming a writer, an editor, a performer, a good friend, or even a supportive wife. I was simply disappearing.
The name change didn’t cause my disappearance. It only reflected it and the decisions I’d made that allowed it. But as I crawled out of my blurry nothingness a few years ago and began to rediscover myself, I saw the reflection in my name and felt sad.
I reinserted the Castle and began using it as my public name, especially for my writing. It felt right. It made me smile to see my parents’ name on published work because they were the people who encouraged me in my writing early on and sacrificed so much for my efforts and education. I want to honor them in the words I write.
Michael liked it, too. One day I teased him that if he wanted to be real equals, he’d add my name just like I added his. I wasn’t really serious, but ever the iconoclast, he heard my little joke and made it a reality.
He thought about it for a long time, weighing the potential hurt or confusion it might cause his family with his desire for us to share the same last name and for it to reflect both of us as wholly as possible.
The announcement went over well, and I was so flattered by his kind words; but the reactions were a little surreal for me. I had some trouble sitting back and watching everyone congratulate him and tell him how awesome or how courageous his decision was.
See, at least in South where I grew up, it’s expected that any bride will gladly vow “obedience” and give up the name of her father and/or mother. It’s expected that she will name her child after her husband, no matter how much that child looks and acts like her side of the family. She might be the last bearer of her name on the family tree. It doesn’t matter. She’s a chick, so her identity is his. Her decision isn’t hailed as sacrificial or courageous. It’s hailed as “submission.”
I am so proud of my husband and I feel very lucky to have him. I sensed a subtle “wow Joanna got a real winner” from across the web after his announcement went out, and I couldn’t agree more. I hope more men start making decisions about their names the way he did: He didn’t do it to be heroic or feminist. He did it because living any other way felt dishonest about who he has become and who we are as a couple.
But I also hope more women will choose true sacrifice and love that doesn’t require a whitewashing of personhood.
I know for many women, a name change doesn’t represent a loss of identity. But this isn’t just about names. Sadly, women silence their gifts, strength, and senses of humor in a million different ways.
In my case the evolution of my name reflects a journey I hope becomes more common, in which women refuse to live ambiguously and instead choose lives of passion, confidence, and clarity.
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(Photo credit: Leslie Watts)
I can definitely relate to this. I love my family name and heritage. I seriously considered not changing my name but felt Matthew’s disappointment and my own sense of abandoning the union aspect of joining names (though he didn’t take mine as you mention). I did the middle name thing as you did, and I’m glad I have Cain in there, but I struggled with the new sound and look and significance of my name for the first few years. Now I’m proud to have his last name as part of my own, but I absolutely see your point about Michael’s sacrifice…. Great! But so did we
Anyway, this is a cool change for your family, and I’m glad it more accurately reflects the dynamic between you two and your families. Babble done!
I hoped our journey wouldn’t come across as judgmental of people who chose differently. Everyone’s situation is unique. It is surprising though how many women struggle with the decision and probably don’t speak up about it, maybe out of guilt or fear their families won’t approve. We have a friend who took his wife’s last name, in part because her family was much more a part of their lives than his was. He faced judgment as well. No one can please everyone, so it seems each couple should make their own choice thoughtfully and let others do the bickering.
Interesting post, Joanna. I wish I had a (will-be maiden) last name that would work better as a middle name than “Wipperfurth.” Also wanted to share my (and my mother’s) #1 most-despised name disappearing act: taking on the first AND last name of your husband as in “Mrs. Michael Miller.”
When we get mail addressed to Mrs. Michael Miller, first we wonder which of us is supposed to open it, then we realize neither…
Totally with you on the significance on name and it’s reflection of a person’s life. I followed the filipino way and made my maiden name my middle name. I wouldn’t say I had a hard time with that, since there is a sense of tradition that is also important to me. But I did have a hard time getting rid of my mother’s maiden name which used to be in middle name (as all filipino children inherit it), because of my love of that side of the family, etc. Also, it helps to know that my children would inherit my maiden name, but my mother’s would be lost in my line. This is getting confusing I’m sure. Anyway, I think either way there is a sense of loss with your name when you get married as a woman in any culture, but that might be appropriate for the occasion of marriage, though the man usually loses nothing. And because we’re in America my last name is the most important in public, and in the beginning it was very weird seeing all my work written by some XB, like some stranger with the same first name as me. It’s grown on me since, and I’ve taken on that new identity, but it was definitely a transition.
Umm…also the man loses nothing only in terms of name…obviously his life changes too
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He loses weight, usually, to start with!
I’m excited you’ve found out how to best fit your names to how you two want to present your identity. I’ve been thinking about you two a lot. I had a lot of the same struggles when I was getting married: my Thomason identity is so incredibly important to me. I struggled a lot with feelings that I was abandoning my family; but David and I both wanted to create a NEW family, which is an entirely new amalgam of tradition and a merging of something (we hope) takes the best of both. I didn’t want a long last name, and we felt it would be a big deal for our families if David changed his last name. We went Bromberg, and Thomason became a middle name for both of us. I like to go Leah Thomason Bromberg, and it feels good when people respect my name choices enough to introduce me that way. It took us almost a year to figure that out, before that trip to the Social Security office. The name still feels new, so I’m glad when I introduce myself and say “Leah Thomason ….BROMBERG.” Oops.