My Name, My Choice

For someone who has never had a boyfriend, I think about what it would like to be married a lot. If anyone is wondering, I’ve decided to get married in Balboa park and have a cosplay wedding reception or rehearsal. One of the things I think of often is the decision to change my name. Yes, fellow feminist, I am most likely going to take my husband’s name when I marry. I’ve decided to write this post because there is mainly one reason I’ve thought to keep my name and the recent realization that reason is an awful one.

One reason I’ve heard I should keep my name is that by taking my husband’s name, I’m symbolically becoming my husband’s property. Yeah, I’m just not buying that idea. If you’re marrying someone who you think could ever see you as their property, then you should rethink that relationship. His property? No, I see it as becoming his family.

Another reason I’ve heard I should keep my name is that I could hyphenate my name with my husband’s. Look, my name is already five letters long. If I marry someone with another five letter name, my name is not going to fit on my uniform. Also, many people I knew growing up with a hyphenated last name hated it because it made their name so long. They could never fit it in the spaces on standardized tests.

I’ve also heard I could just keep my last name and my husband could have his, which would be fine if I was not planning on having children. Like I said before, having the same last name of my husband is about being a family to me. I want to have the same last name as my children and husband. Sue me.

Okay, now I’m sure you’ve been thinking, “your husband could take your name.” And yes, that is certainly a possibility I will discuss with my potential husband. There’s two reasons I do not see this happening. The first is that my potential husband has probably always imagined his wife taking his name and is probably important to him. Since keeping my name is not really all that important to me, I don’t see why I don’t just take his name.

The only reason I have ever seen myself not taking my husband’s name or having my husband taking my name is about my culture. When I look in the mirror, I see a hispanic young woman. To many, I just look like a white young woman. My name is one of the few ways I can signify to the outside world I am Mexican.

And that is the reason that can not be the deciding factor for keeping my name. I can not make life decisions based off what others think of me. I can not take my cultural self worth from others. I know I’m Mexican. I know that is part of my life and will always be Mexican. My name has nothing to do with any of that.

Breakfast tacos are a more common breakfast in my house than pancakes. I have been told to get my chanclas more than I can count. I grew up singing along to Selena. I have more family on my dad’s side than I could ever comprehend.

I’m sorry I’m tired of getting my Pandora ads in Spanish just because of my last name. I’m sorry I’m tired of getting junk mail in Spanish just because of my last name. I’m sorry I have to have the “I don’t speak Spanish” conversation with someone every time they see my last name and make assumptions about my language abilities. Because as much as losing my last name means I will be losing an indicator I am hispanic disappoints me, it also kind of excites me. I feel as if I get this blank slate everyone else gets to start off on.

Ultimately, I do not know what will happen to my last name. It will be a conversation that will be between my husband and I, and no one else gets any input. It doesn't make me a bad feminist or a bad Mexican. It means I’m tired of those stupid Pandora ads in a language I don’t understand.