Do you like that title?

I don’t. Where is MY name? Oh, that’s right! I am married now, and according to the traditional rules of society, I am no longer Miss Kaitlyn Novak. (Remember her? The name I was able to use my whole flipping life? Like 29 years of it?)

Why in the heck do women even get married anymore?

This isn’t about love. Of course I love my husband. It isn’t about disrespect. I respect him too. It is about being an individual in a relationship. Go talk to some married couples, and I will rest my case. With at least one of those couples the whole conversation will go:

“WE think…”

“WE support…”

“WE believe…”

“We don’t like…”

“WE are available…”

Ugh! Get out of each others rear ends! Go find yourselves some different opinions! What do some of you married couples even have to talk about if you already agree with everything that comes out of your spouse’s mouth?!

As far Cody and I go, the two of us have VERY different opinions on pretty much everything. I swear. You name it, we disagree about it. Politics. Food. Religion. Picture frames. The kids. Money. The house. Sports teams. TV shows. Decorative pillows. How to drive. How to sleep. How to breathe. And probably eight hundred other things that aren’t even coming to mind right now. We debate and roll our eyes at each other pretty constantly. It is just what we do. It has been that way for as long as I can remember. I like it that way though. It keeps us both interested and on our toes. I don’t need him to agree with me on everything. It has worked out so far. We challenge each other, and usually end up finding a middle ground that works for both of us.

This was not the case when it came to my name change.

Before the wedding, we briefly discussed it. I said I was going to hyphenate. He said that it would mean a lot to him for me to take his name and blah, blah, blah. I think I muttered a “mmhmm” in a noncommittal way, and avoided the topic after that.

I know. Real mature, Kaitlyn.

Truth is, I don’t get it. The whole name change excitement. I saw a girl I knew from college post a selfie on Facebook literally seconds after saying “I do” with a caption that read:

“You can now address me as Mrs. So and So! (excessive hashtagging and emoticons)”

This post was immediately followed by the “official” name change on her Facebook profile. (What marriage license? What social security office? NOTHING is official until it’s posted on flipping Facebook. NOTHING.) Now her profile reads a completely new name that I won’t remember, because the whole time I knew her with her maiden name. I will probably delete her by accident, because I will see her name pop up on my news feed and not know who the heck she is. Oh well. But it begs me to ask questions:

Why are women so eager to lose their individuality the minute they get married?

Who gets a secret thrill when being called “Mrs. So and So” like their mother-in-law?

Can we still live happily ever after without our husbands overshadowing our own identity?

Cody and I got married last June, despite that vague name change discussion. I wore the dress, said the vows and toasted the champagne.  We came home and resumed our lives. I remember being relieved that we had managed to keep our same daily rhythm after it was over. Prior to getting married, I had been afraid that marriage would upset the happiness we already had. Some of that happiness, at least on my part, came from the independence of not always being identified with my husband. I was just me, not the other half of someone else. I was afraid I was going to lose myself to my marriage. I think the name change was symbolic of that fear. The woman I once was would die the minute we were pronounced as Mr. and Mrs. Yoder.

I remember opening our wedding cards and finding checks made out to “Cody and Kaitlyn Yoder.” I hadn’t run out to change my name the minute the wedding was over, so I endorsed them twice (once as Kaitlyn Yoder and again as Kaitlyn Novak) so that the bank could put the deposit through. The teller cheerily reminded me that all I have to do is bring in my marriage certificate and updated driver’s license next time, and they could take care of the name change for me. That way I wouldn’t run into this problem again. Then finished it off with a “Congratulations, Mrs. Yoder!” and a wink. That poor, bubbly girl. I think I actually scowled at her. I was only two days post-wedding and this crap was starting!? I drove home muttering profanity.

One month after the wedding, joking started on Facebook in regards to the lack of the “official” name change. Cody’s family started asking him why I hadn’t changed my name yet. Friends and family casually brought it up. It was a constant discussion. Some agreed with me. Others didn’t.

“I don’t understand what the big deal is.”

“It’s just a name.”

“It’s just the way things are.”

“I changed my name. It wasn’t hard.”

“I was actually happy to take my husband’s name.”

Well…..La-Di-Da for you.

Of course, Cody thought they all made valid points. Being the (only slightly) stubborn individual I am, I decided then and there during that conversation that I would probably never, ever change my name. I would be Kaitlyn Novak for all eternity. I dug in my heels, and clung to my name for dear life. The rules of society are stupid, and I was not going to be another one of those idiot girls flaunting the fact that I gave myself to a man in holy matrimony. I was one prying question short of a full-on bra burning! Feminism! Equality!

The months went by. Cody would bring it up on occasion, and then I would promptly unleash an angry diatribe about the oppression of women. (I might have a flair for dramatics.) He would get mad. I would already be mad. It wasn’t pretty. What I had feared was happening. We were losing our happiness to this dumb marriage. I’ll be darned if I was going to lose my name too!

Finally, Cody took a different approach. He asked me to explain the real feelings behind my hesitation to change my name. Once I was finished, he told me he would still like me to be Kaitlyn Yoder someday. He told me how much it would mean to him. Then he told me he would try to understand where I was coming from, and that he was okay with me taking my time. He promised to never bring up my name change again, as long I promised to think about it and tell him if I honestly wasn’t going to be able to go through with it. I remember feeling relieved. We didn’t have to talk about it anymore. I didn’t have to be treated like a science experiment because I got married wanting to live happily ever after with my husband and my maiden name. Seven months after the wedding, we had found our middle ground.

Once I didn’t feel so cornered and pressured, I was able to think about the name change a little more rationally. It would be easier to be identified as a family of four with the same last name. I wouldn’t have to explain any confusion on legal or financial documents. Most importantly, it would make my husband really happy. I didn’t have to lose my sense of self, just my maiden name. I came to terms with it, and I sucked it up. I went to the social security office. I went to the DMV. I went to the bank. I updated my credit cards, library card, insurance cards, gym membership, and whatever the heck else. I made a new email address, because my regular one had my maiden name in it. I practiced my new signature so that I would stop accidentally signing “Kaitlyn Novak” on everything. The cherry on top of this pain in the neck? I changed my Facebook profile name. Because it just isn’t official until it’s Facebook official.

My husband was over the moon, and my kids were pretty excited too. I will never forget the day I taught Avery my new last name, because it was too cute.

“Mommy, now you are Kaitlyn Yoder? Just like I am Avery Yoder? And daddy is Cody Yoder? And Emmy is Emmy Yoder? We are all the same!”

Leave it to my four-year-old to melt my heart over an issue that a few months prior was driving me to lead a feminist movement!

I will never be as thrilled as my college Facebook friend that I changed my name, but I am glad I made the sacrifice. After all, marriage is about sacrifice and compromise. Finding the middle ground where both of you can comfortably stand. It is a good thing Cody and I had plenty of practice debating everything else over the years, otherwise we might not have known how to find our middle ground.

Love,

Mrs. Cody Yoder