The Controversial Name-Change After Marriage

Changing Your Name After Marriage

I’ve been married for approximately four months now—though it feels like I’ve been married to my partner since the moment we started dating just over three years ago—and changing my last name was not something I had even considered prior to getting married. To be honest, it didn’t really cross my mind since I was focused on the getting married part rather than the changing my last name part. It wasn’t until my family and friends started asking me if I was planning on taking my partner’s last name that I began considering the possibilities.

If I keep my last name, everything is simple: I don’t have to do an official name-change and notify a bunch of institutions and people—bank, post office, employers, federal and provincial governments—of said name-change; I don’t have to update my license, health card, or passport; all of my on paper achievements—my degrees and certifications—will still be accurate and have the correct last name on them. Yet the idea of actually changing my name, introducing myself to others with a new name, and creating a new signature are all very appealing to me for some reason. It’s not every day that you’re presented with that type of meaningful, significant, and somewhat romantic opportunity (some others might view that opportunity as a hindrance or restriction, though, and rightfully so). 

This being said, if I hyphenate my last name or take my partner’s last name, then I have to do all the pain-in-the-ass paperwork that comes along with it. This is the number one hesitation I have about changing my last name: it’s a task, and one that I’m not particularly excited to complete (at least not any time soon).

I do plan on taking my partner’s last name eventually, but it’s funny—or perhaps a bit sad—that my partner wasn’t asked the same question regarding a potential name-change after marriage. Maybe he wants to take my last name after marriage. Who knows? Well, I know, and he would rather have no last name than take my last name. I suppose a husband taking his wife’s last name is perceived as a form of emasculation in the public eye and—if I’m being totally honest—I know a couple men who have taken their wife’s last name after marriage, and I initially thought it incredibly strange of them, too.

So, why is it that I—and I’m assuming countless others—think it’s strange for a man to take his wife’s last name after marriage?

A Brief History of the (Somewhat) Dreaded Name-Change

Well, I should start out by noting that what I’ve described above—a woman taking her husband’s last name after marriage—is a binary and heteronormative tradition ingrained into our way of life. It doesn’t take into account name-changes that may occur in non-heteronormative marriages. However—since I’m in a heteronormative marriage—I’m probably not the best or most experienced person to speak about name-changes after marriage from a non-heteronormative perspective; there are much more qualified individuals with more insight on the topic than myself. It’s just something worth noting before continuing with this brief dive into the historical significance of name-changes after marriage.

As you might have already guessed—would I really be addressing a topic if it didn’t have an effect on my little feminist heart?—the name-change after marriage was initially utilized as a patriarchal tool to further oppress women. In eighteenth and nineteenth century England—as well as the United States—the name-change was used to ensure that women were not able to obtain individual legal identities separate from their husbands, which was known as coverture. Basically, a young woman—a child—would share a legal identity with her father until she was married, at which point her last name would be changed to that of her husband so she would then share a legal identity with her husband rather than father. 

This practice of coverture is disturbing and problematic since it implies that a woman is a piece of property that can be transferred from one man to another simply by changing her last name. Additionally, it suggests that a woman is not responsible enough nor worthy enough to be treated as an entity independent from her father or husband, which greatly limits what she can do with her life: she cannot pursue her own interests within or outside the home unless her father or husband supports those interests; she cannot have any type of financial or economic freedom; she can—quite literally—never make a name for herself. 

Women have come a long way since these times—at least from my North-American or Canadian perspective—and are no longer viewed simply as property. Obviously, we still have a long way to go when it comes to obtaining gender equality—not only for women but for those individuals who identify as non-binary and transgender, as well—but I’d like to think that a name-change after marriage is not indicative of a transfer of property anymore. 

For a large number of women, the name-change after marriage is now a personal choice. If the name-change is still forced, however, then it may be beneficial to revisit and take into account the disturbing history noted above.

Can You Change Your Name After Marriage and Still Identify as a Feminist?

Short answer: absolutely. And anyone who tells you otherwise doesn’t understand that a huge part of being a feminist is accepting and supporting other women’s decisions as long as they are not hurting or disempowering other women (or any other individuals, for that matter). 

If a woman chooses to keep her own last name after marriage—whether it’s because she doesn’t want to support the history behind the name-change, her own last name is a large part of her identity, or she simply doesn’t want to deal with the stress of a name-change—then she deserves support. On the other hand, if a woman chooses to hyphenate her last name or take her partner’s last name after marriage—whether it’s because she finds the notion of sharing her partner’s last name romantic, she’s not particularly attached to her own last name, or the idea of a name-change is somehow appealing to her in any way, shape, or form—then she deserves that same support.

On this note, I suppose I should take my own advice and reconsider my initial judgements of those couple men I know who chose to take their wife’s last name after marriage: they, too, deserve support and even praise for disregarding gender norms and doing what feels right for them.

Book Review: Stephen King’s Finders Keepers

*BE WARNED: SPOILERS AHEAD*

A Little Summary

For all of you Stephen King fans out there, you probably already know that Finders Keepers (2015) is the second part of the Bill Hodges Trilogy: a series of novels that follows the adventures of retired detective, Bill Hodges. For all the rest of you, well, now you know.

The first part of the Bill Hodges Trilogy, Mr. Mercedes (2014), tells the tragic and twisted tale of how a disturbed young man, Brady Hartsfield, commits a mass murder by driving a stolen Mercedes into a crowd of unsuspecting victims. We then see Bill hunting down Brady with the help of a couple unlikely friends: a young high schooler named Jerome Robinson and a socially awkward middle-aged woman named Holly Gibney. Brady is still alive at the end of the novel but living in a care home or hospital after Holly smashes his head in with a sock full of ball-bearings known as the “happy slapper.”

Fittingly, Finders Keepers is centered upon one of the families affected by Brady’s mass murder: the Saubers’. The father, Tom Saubers, is injured during the incident, which directly leads to him not being able to work or contribute income to their household. After resorting to moving to a less expensive area of the city, Tom’s son Pete stumbles upon a buried treasure chest—quite literally, a chest—in the undeveloped land behind their new home. The chest is filled with cash and dozens of unpublished novels written by an author who was murdered decades prior to Pete finding the treasure chest. Pete anonymously sends the cash to his parents at regular intervals over an extended period of time to help get them back on their feet financially while hoarding the novels for himself. What Pete doesn’t know is that the man—the murderer—who buried the cash and novels in the first place is not only still alive but has recently been set free from prison.

The rest of the narrative follows Pete in his struggle to keep secretly providing for his family financially, which subsequently leads to his violent encounter with the murderer, Morris Bellamy. Of course, Bill, Holly, and Jerome reenter this narrative early on and eventually come to Pete’s rescue. It wouldn’t be the Bill Hodges Trilogy without Bill, right?  

All the Good Stuff

So, it’s no surprise that I love a good Stephen King novel. I mean, I spent two years in graduate school writing a thesis that praises his works. The Bill Hodges Trilogy—or at least the first two parts of the trilogy—is very different than anything I’ve read from King, though. It’s a straight up detective story: retired detective who just can’t quit; mysterious and violent crimes; unlikely friends working together to piece together said crimes. Additionally—unlike many of King’s older works which depend upon a supernatural framework—the first two parts in the Bill Hodges Trilogy are supernatural-free. Well, there’s the tiniest glimpse of the potential to connect to the supernatural in some way at the end of Finders Keepers, but I’ll have to wait and see where that goes in the last part of the trilogy, End of Watch (2016).  

Even though King steps away from the horror genre in Finders Keepers, there are still many things to love about the novel; the first being the fast-paced nature of the novel. Now, I haven’t read many detective novels, but Finders Keepers—as well as Mr. Mercedes, for that matter—are both fairly fast-paced (in my opinion, anyway). There are no lulls in the plotline and King always finds a way to end each chapter with a bang. So, it’s quite enjoyable to read in that sense.

The second aspect of the novel that I deeply enjoy is how King switches character perspective from chapter to chapter. For instance, the novel starts with Morris and the murder of renowned author, John Rothstein, followed by a chapter that takes place decades later from the perspective of the Saubers family. And we get this back and forth of character perspective throughout the novel. I think this contributes even more to the fast-paced nature of the novel.

The last aspect of the novel that I would like to mention—though I could definitely add a few more to this list—is Holly Gibney. As far as relatable characters go, Holly is it for me. She’s quiet, reserved, a touch socially awkward, a logical and critical thinker, and describes a couple situations as poopy throughout the novel. I don’t think I’ve related to a character more in my life. In fact, one of the first things my dad mentioned to me when he recommended the Bill Hodges Trilogy is how the main female character uses the word poopy just like I do. I know it’s strange to fixate on this one characteristic, but I’ve never read a character written this way in a book up until the Bill Hodges Trilogy and it makes me feel weirdly connected to Holly. 

Aside from the language, I also appreciate the way that Holly grows as a character throughout Mr. Mercedes and Finders Keepers: she goes from being an almost-mute stranger in Bill’s eyes to his best friend and basically detective partner. I love the friendship King builds between Bill and Holly. It’s refreshing to see a male-female relationship in a novel that does not turn into a romantic entanglement. I can’t wait to see how Holly develops further in End of Watch.

If she dies, I will start an uprising. Only kidding. But I will be extremely disappointed. 

Some Critique

On the subject of Holly, my main critique of the novel is that I wanted to see more of her. I understand that, being a naturally quiet and reserved character, it would be uncharacteristic to have her in the spotlight too much, but I would have liked to see her just a little bit more. Don’t get me wrong, she is very involved in saving Pete at the end of the novel and plays a major role in piecing together the story of Morris’ connection to the chest Pete finds buried behind his home, but I just wanted to hear and see her more. Do you know what I mean? I think she’s a more well drawn character than Bill, actually, so maybe that’s why I wanted to see her more. Bill can come off as flat and one-dimensional at times while Holly is a fully rounded-out character, and that’s impressive since she doesn’t seem to have as much page-time in the novel as Bill.

My other critique of Finders Keepers is that the plotline is oftentimes predictable. There are no real twists or turns in the narrative and the plot plays out exactly as the reader would expect. The only real mystery in this novel is Brady: Bill visits Brady in his care home or hospital several times throughout the course of the novel because he suspects that Brady is not quite as debilitated as he appears to be. And at the end of the novel, it appears that Bill was right all along. After Bill leaves the care home or hospital room, we see Brady turning on an electronic device beside him, turning on the faucets in his bathroom, and knocking over a framed picture of him and his mother without even touching anything. This is the hint of supernatural I referred to earlier on in this review.

Is it possible Brady gained psychic abilities after Holly slapped him upside the head with the “happy slapper”? It appears so. 

Should You Read Finders Keepers?

Overall, it is my opinion so far that Mr. Mercedes and Finders Keepers are both worth reading. I think the fact that King steps away from the horror genre in these two novels makes them more appealing to a wider audience than his older works. However, if you prefer the old-school King novels, you might not like these two novels as much and find them a bit disappointing in the sense that they’re not necessarily bone-chilling or spooky in any way, shape, or form. 

If End of Watch is awful—which I’m not expecting it to be—then I might change my mind.

But so far, so good.

Stay tuned.    

Becoming a Little Feminist Mama

My Initial Concerns with Growing a Human

Do you remember when I made that joke a few months back—maybe seven or eight months back now—about switching over to natural birth control methods and not being an expert with numbers or tracking my cycle and potentially becoming pregnant in the near future?

Well, it happened—I’m going to be a little feminist mama in just six short months—but not because of my horrid math skills or inability to track my cycle. I wholeheartedly believe in the effectiveness of natural birth control methods and fertility awareness. No, no, my partner and I decided a couple months ago that it was the right time for us to start trying to grow our own little human.

To be quite honest, though—because of all the literature I’ve read recently upon the detrimental impacts of hormonal birth control pills on the body, the side effects I’ve experienced myself,  and the life-altering implications I’ve seen hormonal birth control pills have on a member of my own family—I was concerned that I was not going to be able to have children after taking hormonal birth control pills for such an extended period of time, or I at least thought there would be additional challenges that came along with trying to conceive because my hormones were out of whack for close to ten years.

This being said, I’m super grateful that my partner and I were still able to conceive. I realize that I’m now speaking from a position of privilege, however, and that many individuals are challenged on a daily basis with fertility issues. My heart goes out to those individuals, and I find myself thinking about them more and more with each passing day. 

After my fertility doubts were put at ease, the next thing I found myself worrying about almost immediately upon finding out I was pregnant was the potential for miscarriage. Between 10-20% of pregnancies end in miscarriage and these numbers are thought to be even higher when taking into consideration miscarriages that occur before an individual even knows they are pregnant. So, it’s not like miscarriage is an irrational fear: it’s something that happens quite frequently in pregnancy.

In fact, I personally know multiple people who had miscarriages and shared their experiences with me. The scary thing is that there’s not really a whole lot you can do to prevent a miscarriage. They just happen, and the reason is left a mystery. Perhaps that’s the most difficult part of it all.

I find it strange and a bit disheartening that—when trying to conceive and after actually conceiving—the most prominent emotion that I felt throughout the journey was not joy or happiness, but fear: fear of not being able to conceive and fear of losing a baby after conception. I’m still scared, but I’ve realized that I can’t go through my whole pregnancy being scared. It’s not healthy for me, and it’s not healthy for the tiny human now getting comfortable in my womb. 

It’s time to move forward, and writing this blog post is the first step for me. 

Finding Joy in Telling the Family

Although my initial emotions regarding conceiving and miscarriage were ones based in fear, I did manage to find some joy at the beginning of my pregnancy journey when revealing to my partner and family that I was, in fact, pregnant.

Of course, I could only keep the secret from my partner for maybe two or three hours after I took a pregnancy test. You see, what happened was, on the morning that I took a pregnancy test, I ended up taking it at around four o’clock in the morning because I couldn’t sleep. I had an inkling I was pregnant and was excited. So, I sat on the toilet at four o’clock in the morning, peed on the weird little stick, waited two or three minutes, then looked at the test: a plus sign. I then immediately started to cry while still sitting on the toilet. Also while sitting on the toilet, I took a photo of the positive pregnancy test because it was digital and needed proof (and how long do those things really last?).

The only reason I managed to keep the secret from my partner for a few hours was because he was still sleeping when I took the test. I tried to keep it to myself when he woke up—my plan was to go out and buy a cute little pair of shoes or a mug or something to do a pregnancy reveal later that day—but I broke and just showed him the photo of the test. His initial response when I showed it to him was “that’s not your hand in that picture” and I said “yes it is, and that’s our bath mat.” And then I cried and he told me he loved me. 

This sounds awfully cheesy as I’m writing it, but it’s exactly what happened.

Soon after that, we called my partner’s family and then my family to share the news.

My mom has one of those neat little picture frames that anyone can send pictures to, so while talking on the phone to her I sent the photo of the pregnancy test and she shouted “YOU’RE PREGNANT?” And then my dad immediately walked in—are your parents really your parents if they don’t have you on speaker phone all the time?—and said “I could hear that all the way in the other room.” They’re stoked, to say the least.

My brothers’ responses were a bit more colourful. I believe my oldest brother said something along the lines of “you’re going to turn into a whale,” and my other older brother—but still younger than my oldest brother—said something like “get ready to put your body through hell.” Lovely, aren’t they? It’s about what I expected. At least they made me laugh instead of cry, though. I’d had enough crying by that point in the day. 

My older brother—not the oldest—also asked me what I was hoping for: a boy or a girl. I told him I was hoping for a girl, and his response was somewhat off-putting. He responded with “if you have a girl, she’s automatically going to have more challenges” and then proceeded to mention rape and assault and a few other traumas that women often suffer through during their lifetimes. That saddened me, but he’s not wrong, either. 

However, I’m still hoping for a girl. 

Let me tell you why. 

Raising a Little Girl in Contemporary Times

I should start out by saying that I’m obviously going to love my child regardless of their sex and gender, as any parent should. All I’m actually hoping for is a safe pregnancy and birth. If I could pick between raising a boy or a girl first, though—we’re planning on having at least one more child afterward—I would choose a girl, and there are a couple reasons why.

First and foremost, I know more about little girls based solely on the fact that I was one at one point in my life. Due to this fact, I think I have a better grasp on what they need, what they want, how they change as they grow older, the challenges that come along with being a young woman. I’ve been through it all already and—honestly—I think raising a little girl would be a bit easier for me to do at this point in my life than raising a little boy. Since this is my first child, I really need that confidence booster since I’ve never seen myself as a mother or felt that I have maternal instincts. This doesn’t mean that, if I do have a little girl, she will be exactly as I was when I was a child. Every single child is different and grows on their own terms. 

I just feel that I would have a more solid foundation to work with if I were to have a little girl.

Second, I want the opportunity to raise a little girl using some of the tools and knowledge that I lacked as a little girl and young woman. A few examples include how to give or deny consent, menstruation as a source of power rather than shame, compassion for the self and others, healthy body image, and how to utilize your unique voice. Don’t get me wrong, I grew up in a household where sex and gender norms were constantly being challenged—my mom was always the stable source of income while my dad stayed at home with my brothers and I for a large part of our childhoods—but I want to be able to provide other resources and tools of self-empowerment to my child, as well. 

This is also just as important when raising a little boy but, as my brother noted, a little girl would automatically have more challenges in life purely because of her sex. This is unfortunate and I want to be able to teach my child that those challenges can be overcome and that equal opportunity, respect, freedom, and choice are worth fighting for, particularly if I have a little girl.

I may be new to this role, but I think that the opportunity to teach and empower is a huge part of being a little feminist mama. It’s at least a good place to start.