Why I Am Not Changing My Surname After Marriage

“When are you changing your surname?” I was asked this question for the first time an hour after we exchanged our wedding vows. The comment, coming from someone who was not my immediate family, came as a surprise. More so because “when” implies that it’s a given thing ━ part of the natural order of a woman’s life. Born, school, work, marriage, change surname, give birth and die. So on that day, I just smiled because I wanted to be gracious on my wedding day.

Adopting My Surname

The truth is, changing my surname after my marriage had been on my mind for a while. A way long time! Ever since I started typing my Appa’s name in the Surname box when buying my own flight tickets.

You see, I was born without a last name. So I “adopted” my Appa’s name as my surname when I applied for my first passport. It’s a requirement to have a family name on the application. Thus, I got my surname at the age of 12 or so. And it stuck with me throughout my life.

I Am (not) Mrs.

Today, two months shy of our first wedding anniversary, a colleague asked about changing my surname again, or to be precise, asked me what procedure I went through to change my last name as an immigrant living in Melbourne.

Her question gave me flashbacks. Firstly, an ex-boyfriend, who hasn’t accomplished anything, yet, kept asking me to change my last name to his once we get married. He was obsessed with calling me Mrs-his last-name. Even though I was too young to fully understand and object to his nonsensical entitled patriarchal behaviour, I didn’t find it appealing.

Even then, I knew I didn’t want to be a Mrs. ━ , definitely not his Mrs.

Then there was a colleague in Singapore who excitedly told me that now she has married, she was getting a brand new name (first name and last name), together with a new wardrobe. In her culture, marriage means shedding the old identity and assuming a new identity as you “enter” your husband’s house and family.

Even though she seemed completely happy about this, I couldn’t imagine having my before-marriage identity wiped clean so I could start fresh as my husband’s wife. So, Nope, not me, no thank you.

Keeping My Surname

A few years after that entered Fafa, who captured my attention by playing air guitar and later my heart by being himself. Eventually, we discussed marriage, and the topic of the last name reemerged. I immediately became defensive and said, “only if you pay for my school and food for the next 25 years will I take your last name”. He was taken aback by my reply. As he should, because it was hurtful. I apologized, and he learned that I came with emotional baggage.

More time passed, and we had more discussions about my surname.

I explained to him that the combination of my first name-last name faced all my life struggles, journeys and victories with me.

It Me

It was my first name-last name got -0.25 in Chemistry. It’s also the same name written below the Foreign Direct Investment thesis for which I worked a year. My first name-last name is printed on my passport and decorated with travel stamps ━ , which I consider my most significant life accomplishment so far. It was me, with my surname, who he fell in love with. And that I don’t want to change my surname to his surname as I wouldn’t even think about asking him to change his surname to my surname.

For a brief moment, I considered combining his surname and my surname, ala Chopra-Jones. But, even the thought of writing 19 letters, plus a dash in between, into the Last Name section was already tiring for me.

In the end, I told Fafa that I love him so much that I am willing to share my blanket with him, but I love myself more to keep what I see as a massive part of my identity, my surname. It’s what makes me, me.

Speaking of Patriarchy

Amma changed her maiden name to Appa’s name. I asked whether she considered the alternative. She said that back then, she didn’t know it was even an option as patriarchy is the norm in Indian culture for the wife to follow the husband.

But you do you…

Cultural aspects aside, many of my firm, independent female friends and role models change their maiden names to their husbands’ family names. Each with their own reason.

I respect their decision. More so to the ones who think it through before deciding to change it. But it’s just not for me.

I have enough quips about changing it for someone who wasn’t given any last name, but I am my name. It’s my root, as printed on my boarding pass. I want to be celebrated with that name. Before, now and forever.