Take My Name... Please!

Before you get to the wedding toast, there are some, uh, issues to work out. First rule: Don't make any assumptions about who's taking whose name, for one thing...

It shouldn't come as any surprise that engagement is fraught with many difficult choices. Just planning the wedding alone can yield a minefield of decisions that test the bonds of any loving couple. We all eventually come to accept, some of us quicker than others, that relationships are mostly about compromise.

But there are just some things that I personally never figured I'd have to compromise on. Like, for instance, my name! It all started when my fiancé and I were ordering our wedding invitations. After several weeks of going through stacks of sample books overflowing with paper choices, endless font styles, multitudes of envelope shapes and a rainbow of colored foil liners, we finally settled... or shall I say, we compromised and picked out our invitations. And while we were at it, we both thought it wise to have some "thank you" note-cards printed for all those incredibly wonderful gifts we'd be receiving.

That's when the trouble started. Two little words that changed everything -- return address! My assumption was that after marriage we would become husband and wife, sharing everything together, including my last name. The return address on our "thank you" cards would be our first official proclamation of this new partnership. It never occurred to me that she might have other plans.

Now I gotta tell you, I don't want to come off as some kind of old fashioned jerk, but I really believe it's part of the deal when you get married that both parties assume one name. I completely support a woman's right to choose, that is, everything but her last name. I respect and appreciate my fiancé's need for individuality, but I could see no reason for breaking with the sanctity of what I consider to be a pillar within the institution of marriage. If need be, I could live with her hyphenating her name, but anything beyond just wouldn't do. I was prepared to go into battle over the very future of my lineage.

I readied myself for the inevitable litany of reasons why this was not fair to her. After all, this was her name from birth, she had established it within her profession. It was a part of her identity and as an only child it would carry on her family name. All perfectly good reasons, but none which could sway me. However, what she said next hit hard, like a crisp Tyson uppercut, "But your last name is so...so...so... embarrassing, honey!"

"Hey, what's wrong with my name?! You never said anything about it before?" I barked, perhaps a bit too defensively. "Well, I didn't want to hurt your feelings. Plus, up until now, it was just your name. I guess I kinda hoped you'd understand," she said with great tenderness.

Understand?! What the heck did she mean by that? But then suddenly I realized what she was getting at. I flashed back on all those childhood taunts and how I often wished I were best friends with the Incredible Hulk, so he could kick the crap out of my tormentors. Unfortunately, the Incredible Hulk didn't live in the suburbs, so I had to fend for myself.

Okay, she had a point about the name. It was kind of cruel to force that on her. And I always did think she had a pretty cool surname -- Smith. So, being a magnanimous guy, I proclaimed my support of her intention to keep her last name. I figured that would be the end of that. Once again I was wrong. I could tell by the look on her face that she was about to say something that would have me praying for a last minute rescue by the Hulk.

"You know, maybe we could both take my last name," she said almost apologetically. "What?! You want me to change my last name? You've got to be kidding?!!"

It was bad enough that she would hyphenate and trash my name, but now she wanted me to change mine to hers. What was next? "Mrs. Rick Smith"? Well, guys just don't do that. I mean, I'd be the laughing stock of the whole darn planet.

I hit back with my best arguments. I had to keep this name. After all, I've had it from birth, I've established it professionally, it's part of my identity, and being an only child it will carry on my family lineage! I think I was starting to persuade her, that is, up until that last part about the only child. See, I have two brothers.

It was obvious that we had reached a serious impasse.

Which brings me back to my original premise. Relationships are about compromise. And as in any really healthy relationship, my fiancé and I were able to reach what I consider to be a very reasonable accommodation. She would keep her last name and I would keep mine. And as far as our future kids are concerned... well, let's just say we're going to try to move next door to a large, green super-hero.