As a woman living in the twenty-first century, the issue of taking my soon-to-be husband’s name is a complicated issue. I am sure that my grandmothers did not think twice about taking their husbands’ names. More than likely, it just wasn’t socially acceptable to question this. I, however, had a choice; I was torn on what to do. I found myself pushing back against American wedding and marriage traditions. I wanted to fight against the assumption that a woman should automatically take her husband’s name, flinging her own to the wind. Still, I did take Josh’s feelings into consideration. He wanted to take the traditional route. Still, we searched for a compromise. Finding a compromise was difficult, though, since we were on opposite sides. Josh absolutely refused to take my name. I suggested the option of having both of us hyphenate our names into Keimig-Schlue. He disliked that option as well. We were at an impasse. I felt that Josh did not understand the importance of this decision, and I was hurt that Josh wouldn’t even consider changing his last name while expecting me to do so. This issue put me in a difficult position, as I did not want to force him do to anything he didn’t want to do. We had many arguments that were left unresolved, and they grew in intensity. At this argument’s zenith, I had broken down. Between sobs, I told Josh how I was feeling about his apparent lack of understanding, how I felt trapped by this decision, and how I felt like I had no control over my own name. He had no answers for me. Looking back, I think that he had felt just as trapped and confused as I did. Still, since he had no answers for me, I had to find my own.
My original argument was that changing my name was like changing who I was. I had thought that Josh’s feelings and my feelings, though in relation to our own names, were identical. By this logic, I could understand why Josh did not want to change his name. After all, I felt the same way.
I was wrong.
Part 2 coming soon!
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