That’s Not My Name
Last night Jeremy and I had a discussion about my taking his name. I had originally agreed to do this without really thinking about it, and now I’m having second thoughts. I’m almost 33 years old. My name has been my name for all these years and when I think about giving that up, I get sad.
Of course when I told him this, he took it the absolute wrong way, and found that my not wanting to take his name was an insult to him. Of course this isn’t true. When I pointed out that I thought it was an archaic tradition, he got, for lack of a better word, butthurt. He said his parents wouldn’t understand if I didn’t take his name. This is something that I truly don’t understand, but this is probably because I have a very relaxed relationship with my parents, and if they didn’t like it, I’d tell them to pound sand.
So, in the end I’m still not sure about it, but I’m leaning more towards taking his name. His last name is shorter, and more common. My current last name is constantly mis-spelled and mispronounced. It’s already bad enough that I get called Terri, Sherri, Sarah, and yesterday was a new one, CHERRY, it would be nice to have a last name that people can’t screw up.
Did any of you have a problem deciding to take your husband’s last name?
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