What’s in a name? What’s in your name? Firstly, its what identifies you as you. What ever that is.
I, like many teenagers, had issues. I suffer from anxiety and depression on a mild scale. During my teenage years, it hit me like a ton of bricks. I was a deeply dark and depressing wreck. My family was (and still is) largely opposed to any sort of psychological help. It may have caused more issues, but that’s another story. I wasn’t quite suicidal but glamorized “sleeping forever”, which is essentially the same thing. I was never a believer in the afterlife, even way before I realized my atheism. For those who do believe, suicide is a sin. For those like me, who don’t, suicide is the most pointless idea in the possible realm of ideas. End your lucky stay on this wondrous planet? Suicide is a lose-lose for everyone. I never threatened it either; I was just depressed and wore a good deal of dark clothes (even during the summers in Miami). Since I was not allowed to see a psychiatrist or counselor, I began writing. A lot. Mostly stream of consciousness journaling and poetry. Its surely what saved my mind from going nutty.
This, in combination with general teenage-hood, made me feel pretty crappy about myself. As I aged, I started to like myself again. My college years were formative in the friends I made. The real change happened once I moved to Los Angeles. The laid-back atmosphere of the west coast – compared to the uptight east coast – didn’t hurt either. The people who say LA is phony must have never been to Miami. (Or even the south.)
But I digress. Living on my own and getting into the working world was the second push for me into being an optimist and lover of life. Due to everything, the name Rose Schwartz sounded ugly to me for many years. And I had finally learned to love it.
Why I didn’t take my husband’s last name
My husband has a very unique and cool last name. If I would have taken any name, it would have been his. Many people have assumed that because his last name rhymes with my first name is the reason I chose to keep my own. Actually, that was one of the reasons I would have taken it. Rose Broze? How awesomely unique is that? But it just felt wrong.
People would ask me after I got married when I was changing my name. I would sometimes simply say “I’m not” but sometimes I felt offended and would utter “what’s wrong with mine?” 25 years it took me to love my own name. And now I have to change it? That, in conjunction with my general feminist attitude towards life, afforded me my only choice. Do nothing. ;)
Being that I don’t desire children, having a family name wasn’t a concern. But I do understand that concern. No kids like having hyphenated names.
Equality
Feminism is all about equality. And for me, a name change, doesn’t make me feel equal (although my hubby totally does). Also, he completely understands my view and has never said boo about it.
Are there any other reasons for a woman to take a man’s last name that I may have missed? Can anyone enlighten me to the other side of the coin? I have not heard convincing reasoning as of yet.
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