Mr Wonderful and I went into the county auditor’s office to get our marriage license this morning. There is nothing like that first step toward getting your marriage legally recognized to cement reality.

We sat down and I filled in our information on the form. I wrote in Matt’s information first: name, birth date, etc. Then I got to my portion of the form, and it asked for my name, and then had a box for my maiden name. I was slightly confused. If I was taking his last name, was I supposed to write my name with his last name, and then put my (soon-to-be) maiden name on the “maiden name” line? I had automatically written my name, and then questioned it when I got to the “maiden name” line. Matt thought I was supposed to use his last name.

I am planning on taking Matt’s last name. I don’t have a philosophical stance on whether women should or should not take their husband’s last name. I think that’s up to the individual woman to decide. I had always planned on taking my husband’s last name, partly because, unless his name was horrible, I would finally be free of “short” jokes. (You know I would be keeping my last name if his was Butts or something… In which case, even hyphenating would be disasterous.) Hyphenating seems like a good idea, but my maiden name is difficult to hyphenate with, as any adjective name would be. Also, there is the issue of then what are your children’s last names going to be? Will they be given the hypenated version? What if they get married and want to hyphenate? Three hyphens?! It gets a little out of control.

But as I sat there, facing the possibility of putting my new name on an official form for the first time, I felt a slight hesitation. I felt almost like I was going to lose part of myself, or like I didn’t know who I was anymore. I know that sounds uber-dramatic. It’s just a name, right? But all of my accomplishments were under my maiden name. All of my friends know me under my maiden name. That was the name I scribbled on paper with a thick crayon when I first learned how to write. It was the name enscribed on the safety bracelet I wore around when I was very young. When I learned my identity, it was under that name. I was that name.

My new name has no history. It’s completely new to me. So of course I feel a bit detached from it. My new name is tied to my future, rather than my past. And the future is… well, who  knows?

I asked Matt if he would change his name to mine. Of course, he immediately said no. I figured as much, but I asked why, just for clarification. And his response was basically the reason I wanted to change my name:  I have a name that gets made into lame jokes. But if I had an average or maybe even “cool” name would he change it? I don’t know, I didn’t ask. Probably not, though. Because  if our patriarchal society’s customs pressure men to keep their identity and save them the hassle of changing their name, they’ll use it to their advantage.

We asked the clerk which name I was supposed to write, and she said it was my maiden name. So for now, I have some more time to get used to the idea. I’m sure I’ll warm up to my new name once we’re married and begin to build our own family history. But for now, I’m enjoying my last couple weeks of being who I’ve always been.