I still haven’t sent my Thank You cards.
I haven’t printed all of my wedding photos.
I haven’t made an album.
I haven’t sent my dress off to be cleaned and preserved (and OMG does it need to be cleaned).
I haven’t spent my wedding gift cards.
I haven’t changed my name.
Most of those “haven’t” things are because I am lazy and terrible at projects that seem HUGE even when they are really quite simple. I might have adult ADD. Or something. Probably.
Where was I?
The one “haven’t” that might be some what deliberate.
Before you ask, no, I’m not some kind of feminist or anything. I’m not opposed to the the idea of a woman taking her husband’s name (mostly. It seems a bit antiquated now that woman are no longer “property” but whatever). And I am not opposed to my husband’s last name either! At all!! It actually goes quite nicely with my first name. No horrible rhyming situation or anything. (Who would ever want to be Julia Gulia?) Also to be noted: I don’t have any kind of affinity for my father, the man who gave me the name I chance losing as the oldest of three girls. The guy is a total jack hole. So it’s not that.
But my name is my name. I suppose if people had always called me Erin I wouldn’t be so attached. But people have been using my last name as my first name for as long as I can remember. As if I was born into the military. Because “Erin” is apparently so f**king hard to use. Or at least, way less fun. Most recently, my bestest friends have used my last name to create the best nicknames ever spoken. And I know in my heart that changing my name won’t stop people from calling me “Frazzle McDazzle” but still…
But still. I’m dragging my feet on this one. Even the thought of the DMV and Social Security waiting rooms gives me the skeeves.
I suppose when children become involved I might rush it. I don’t want my kid to have that weird mom with a different last name even when their parents are married. It’s just confusing.
Changing my name or leaving it the same won’t make me any less his or make him any less mine.
Until children, what’s the point?