Hello. My Name Is...

This is not a post about my divorce.

This is not a post about my remarriage. 

This is a post about one piece of the reality of my experience. And it has taken me months to gather the courage to share. But, the feeling that it's worth sharing won't leave, so here we go. 

For the second time in my life, I left behind a name that crafted my identity. Even Sarah, Abraham and Paul were only asked to change their names once - and it was by Divine intervention. 

The first time I changed my name, it was the name that was given to me by my parents and gave me a rich heritage of family legacy. As soon as I was married, the name that had been mine for 22 years disappeared behind a new name. His name. 

Although it stung the first time, it was more sweet than bitter. I embraced the identity of Mrs. I wanted to be known as his wife. I wanted to be a family and have his children. This sounds very traditional of me, and I guess it was. But I didn't really think about it.

So, in my careers I branded myself with his name. My artwork was branded with his name. My students knew me with his name. Then when we had children, we gave them his name. This is all very sweet. I chose all those things. Taking a husband’s name in our culture is the traditional and life-altering outward display of love and union and family.

It’s very sweet.

Until it isn’t.

As a woman, I am presented with a choice at the time of marriage and at the time of divorce - what will my name be?

Men are allowed to go through their celebrations or grief with complete privacy in their professional lives and in their everyday interactions. They may even remarry or get divorced multiple times and virtually no institution would know the difference.

While the man who gets married or divorced may move along in his career, (building credibility, publishing books, speaking engagements, gaining momentum as an artist), the woman who gets married or divorced is forced to rebrand herself and start virtually from scratch or retain the status quo. 

If you are male, ponder placing an asterisk next to the year you were married on your CV with a footnote about that moment in your personal life. Then adding another asterisk when you were divorced. Then another asterisk when you remarry - each with a footnote. If this feels like an abundance of prying, non relevant information to add to your CV, you are correct. However as a man, you are privileged with privacy, where women are not.

Depending on which society a woman is in, she will feel pressure one way or the other. In more liberal circles she is pressured to keep her maiden name. In more traditional circles she is pressured to take her husband’s name. These are all pressures and choices men do not have to spend time considering. Nor do they spend money in legal fees or rebranding. Let alone time with the countless phone calls changing contact information at various doctor offices, banks, internet providers and the like.

Perhaps the most difficult and painful part of this patriarchal tradition (and I am purely speaking from a paperwork standpoint, not the global pain of divorce - which is indescribable and could not possibly be captured in one blog entry) is when the severing of divorce takes place, the children automatically retain the father's name. So the mother, once again, disappears on paper.

This time, instead of disappearing behind her husband’s name, she disappears from her children’s name. Their family tree legacy is forever broken and detached from her. Should she want to prevent this, she is faced with fighting the father in court to change the children’s surname. (Insert more pain and confusion for the children.)

I know my children are mine. They know they are mine. It really isn’t a question of the present. It’s the question of legacy. It is the scarlet letter; a letter men do not have to carry.

So what does a sentimental and somewhat traditional girl like me to do? I can’t change this patriarchal society.

I have found myself in a wonderfully egalitarian relationship built on mutual love and respect for God first and each other second. We help each other based on what needs to be done in our family and not what gender is traditionally supposed to do what role or chore. We both take pride in our careers and in our roles as parents. I have married a man who has given me his heart and soul and I have given him mine. He loves my children as his own and I love his children as mine.

So we are family - and that’s all we need.

He did not ask me to take his name. When I mentioned the idea he told me he would be honored if I decided to take it.

And I want to be known as his wife.

To go against our society's tradition purely on principle seems exhausting to me - and untrue to my own heart. After all, what name would I keep now? My father’s name? My children’s name? 

I am also so tired of explaining my life to strangers. This would only be exacerbated if I was to do something like keep my maiden name - where I would not share a name with my children or my husband.  

It would be easy for me to get angry and resentful toward an invisible patriarchy that hides me behind a man in the best case scenario and announces my departure from a man in the worst case.

Acceptance is the key to my decision in the end. I have come to accept the society in which I live. But I have so much empathy for those who choose to hyphenate, retain their maiden name or make up a brand new name for themselves. I no longer pass unconscious judgment on those who have decided for themselves what their name will be.    

Secondly, I accept that my identity lies in something much greater than myself or my baggage (I am better at this some days more than others). I am a daughter of God - who’s name is above all names.

Therefore, God elevated him to the place of highest honor

   and gave him the name above all other names,

Philippians 2:9

But to all who believed him and accepted him, he gave the right to become children of God.

John 1:12

This is where I can find peace to know that through all the brokenness that brought me to this point to begin with, no matter my name, I am God’s royal daughter. That alone is my identity.

So, I changed my name.

I leave behind the name I once shared with my children. I took the name of my husband, a man who respects me as an equal, who is my teammate, my partner, who I cherish and who cherishes me. This fact makes me so heartbroken and so joyful all at once. This life is broken and messy. Joyful and full of heartache. Piercingly painful and gloriously exciting all at once.

This was the best broken choice for me.