Christmas Card Delight

I've been very busy lately---hence the failure to blog---but it has been a wonderful kind of busy.

Busy with concerts, Christmas parties, open houses, friends and family. I've loved every minute of it.

One of my favorite parts of this time of year is my daily trip to the mailbox for Christmas cards. I love getting mail on a regular basis, but the holiday season always brings a heightened anticipation for things in the mail.


Every year, I make a giant display of the cards received from our dear friends and family, some whom I only hear from once a year. Receiving and opening those Christmas cards is a such a pleasure. I love to look at the stamps, the heavy envel0pes, the lush paper. I really inspect every detail of the cards, which is why I was apt to notice how one of my cards was addressed.

Let me first say that I am aware that I am a "name freak." I am obsessed and very conscious of my name, other people names, etc. Obviously, it was something enough to inspire me to start this blog.

Upon opening one of this years cards, I was shocked and amazed to receive a note (1) addressed just to me and (2) addressed to Mrs. Andrew H. Owens (I guess, also me).

This was (1) shocking and (2) amazing to me for the following reasons:

a. It is a rarity for me to receive something such as a Christmas card, announcement, invitation as an individual. My husband and I have been a couple so long that even before we were married, people still invited/communicated with us as an individual.
b. I am still amazed to see anything that lists a woman's name as her husbands name with Mrs. tacked on the front. I truly believed that my husband's grandmother (whose husband has been deceased for 18) was the only woman still requesting to be addressed in that manner. I am certainly proud to be my husbands wife, but I do have a name.
c. The card sender is under the age of 30. I mean, really.

Well, the bottom line is that a beautiful card was inside that envelope from a very sweet friend and I'm looking forward to many more merry Christmas cards, however they come.

KEGO

HE did it

I've always wanted to write about men who take their wive's last names. While an uncommon (at least in the United States) , this is something that my husband and I carefully considered. He identifies very strongly with my side of the family, so we've considered him a "Greene" for many years now. Plus, if we were being fair, it had to be considered as an option.

For us, we decided that it wasn't our best option, but it has always left me wondering what is the ideal situation for the man's name change. Why would he do it? Why would he want to do it?

As a started researching this issue, I found out that it is a more common choice than one might think. USA today did an article on the topic in 2007. Check it out here.

This is a very interesting blog post documenting one man's choice. Check it out here.

Another experience here. They dealt with the costly ramifications of the choice ($$$).

Another husband, Josiah Neufield, writes about his name change experience in an article for Globalmail.com. His experience (interestingly) shared a lot of parrallels with my own. Yet another DMV experience!

He writes, "It was my idea; Mona never suggested it.

he official at the drivers' licence office squinted at me suspiciously, examined for a second time my birth certificate and marriage licence, and repeated, "You want to change your last name to your wife's?"

"That's correct."

"Usually it's the other way around."

"Usually it is."

He consulted the form on his screen and said slowly, as much to himself as to anyone, "Yes ... you can do that."

Of all the independences one sacrifices at the altar, a name might seem like a small one. Women have been leaving theirs there for centuries.

But I agonized over my decision to take my wife's last name when we married two years ago. I told my family what I was considering; my mother laughed doubtfully. "We'll have to have a family discussion about that," she said. ...She cried when I told her I'd made up my mind.

"I don't believe you did it," a relative said to me recently, "and I don't even want to know why." We left it at that.

People often ask me why I did it, with curious or wary glances. It's a good question with many answers.

I did it because I love Mona -- because I wanted her to know that I didn't expect her to become anyone other than herself. It mattered to me that we shared a name, so I reasoned I should be the one to offer mine up...

Mona told me afterward my choice made her feel loved."

What an amazing thing for a husband to do. I couldn't help it, but to tear up as I was reading.

As I've experienced my own negative (and also positive) reactions to my name decision, I've speculated, questioned and sympathized with what it would be like for a man to make that decision---to be a hyphen or the oh-so-bold decision to take his wife's name.

As Neufield reminds, we don't have to fret about this too much. "So far the name change hasn't cost me more than a few hours of paperwork, some explanations to public officials and a few strained conversations with brittle relatives who think I've joined a matrilineal cult. I still feel like myself. My identity remains intact. Marriage will demand larger sacrifices than this, I expect."

Amen.

I am definitely pleased with the decision that we made, but 0ne can always wonder.

KEGO

An 80-20 Split

Wow. It has been a very busy (and fun) few weeks since I last posted. I am busily preparing for and executing a fundraiser at work and trying to give my husband the most calm midterm week ever. I'm not sure how successful it has been, but I have certainly tried.

Why is it that people are always busy at the same time? I love the notion that when one of you can only bring 20% to the table in your relationship, that the other can bring the 80%---the idea that you can give and take for each other. It is a really nice idea, and I have to say that it does work a lot of the time.

But what about when you are both busy and you both bring 20%. How do you make up for that other 60%?

I guess that is where the love part comes in. You are both extra forgiving and extra patient with each other. It is the part that my sweet husband is oh so good at. It is what I am working on now.

Life as a hyphenate has been smooth sailing since my little trip to the drivers license renewal office. In fact, I have actually meet several people in the last few weeks with hyphenated last names, one of which was a man (gasp!). It kind of feels like a cosmic apology for yet another DMV name disaster.

KEGO

Drivers License Renewal Office Take Two

Many of you have heard the story of my first "name change" experience at the drivers license renewal office---it was interesting to say the least. You can read about it here.

Last week, I had to return to said office to get a new license following my 25th birthday. I thought that they might redeem themselves, but this is what happened...

My picture was taken and there were no faux-pas. I was relieved. After all, in my last encounter it had all started from the moment I gave them my information in line.

I was just waiting for my license to be laminated, anxiously awaiting to see what sort of picture I would be suffering through for the next several years. (In all fairness, I should say that I have yet to have a bad license photo---but that fear still hangs in the air while I wait each time).

The "photo lady" pulls my license off the machine.

Greene...(pause) Owens.

She said it in a rather halting manner. It was kind of strange. She was probably just reading the small type, I decided.

I walked over to the counter and took my license in hand. I peeked at the photo---it looked good. Whew! I'll examine it more closely in the car---don't want to seem too vain.

Wow. I had made it out of the license office without incident.

Then the "photo lady" piped up.

Ma'am, I've got a question for you. I've just got to ask this.

When someone makes that kind of statement, you worry. Maybe she was just going to ask me about where I'd gotten my purse or who had cut my hair.

I've got to ask you about your name.

Here we go again.

It's just that Greene is the funniest first name that I've ever heard.

Was she serious?

Is that a family name or something.

I just said yes. It was true after all. Greene was a family name.

Oh boy. Let's just hope that I don't need to go back for a while.

KEGO

The Alphabetical Problem

Perhaps the silliest part of my life as a hyphenate has been the alphabet issue. Yes, I know my ABCs, but I can never quite remember where to find myself in an alphabetical listing. Is it G or is it O? I don't have a clue and neither do the list makers that put me in every which place.

Personally, I see myself as a G. I think of G as the first letter of my last name. Greene-Owens.

Still many times I find my name sitting under the O column. Don't they recognize it as one name? I know that some people feel that Greene is just another middle name for me. Greene-Owens. Where do you put the emphasis?

Emily Post, it seems, does not have a definitive answer.

I have been reading a lot of articles about name hyphenation recently. It has produced some interesting results. In many ways I am pleased to know that there are other women who are defending their naming choice (yes, it is a choice), but it made me sad that this is an issue for them. We are living in a single last name world.

Here are a couple of excerpts from other ladies hyphenation woes:

"When I got married, I didn't change my last name. I guess we both could have hyphenated our names, but that wasn't very appealing to either of us, and I certainly wasn't going to hyphenate if my husband wasn't going to. Instead, we did that to our daughter. It just seemed too strange to me to contemplate being in a family in which my daughter had my husband's last name and not mine (too), even stranger than our all having different last names.

Then we had to decide which name would go first. We decided to decide based on what sounded best, and we agreed that the order that sounded best was my name first.

Our first plan was that she would have two last names without a hyphen, but we were told at the hospital when her birth certificate was being filled out that it was illegal to have a 'space' in a last name. I said "What if our name were van Gogh or da Vinci?". They said no go(gh). Perhaps we got an uninformed person doing the birth certificate, but I was desperate to go home and they told us we couldn't leave the hospital until we gave our daughter a last name with no spaces. Bizarre.

So she has a hyphen, and a long last name that doesn't quite make it intact onto some forms. The only one who has ever been upset about our daughter's last name is my mother-in-law. She didn't like the hyphenation and she particularly didn't like the fact that my name was first. She told us that she hoped people would think that that name was a middle name and that the real last name was her son's (no matter that my mother-in-law has kept the name of a man she divorced and loathed for the rest of his life)." (Female Science Professor)

"I suppose I believed, naively it now seems, that Texas was ready for a woman with a hyphenated name. After all, it was 1991, and I knew an artist* who had shared his wife's name for over 15 years without difficulty. The British have had hyphenated names for centuries. Magazines were full of interviews with well-known celebrities sporting double names. How complicated could this be?

Very.

For starters, most people do not realize that two words connected by a hyphen should be treated as a single word. They automatically split off the last half and say Mrs. Rainwater. When corrected, they simply don't know what to do. At the dry cleaners, they have taken to calling me Mrs. Chancewater. It's not uncommon to hear Mrs. Chancerainwa..., as if the speaker is just embarrassed to say the entire name. I wonder if Nadja Salerno-Sonnenberg has this much trouble picking up her dry cleaning?

Then there's the length problem. I think it was a prescription label where this problem first surfaced. The name simply wouldn't fit in the space the computer thought proper for a last name. The pharmacist settled for abbreviating it to Chance-RainH2O. That worked for a man with chemistry background, but confused the heck out of the little slacker clerks behind the counter. "Last name" they would demand. "Chance-Rainwater" I would reply, and they would head straight for the basket marked R, and return with the news that there was no prescription. "Try looking under C", I would suggest. "Why?" they would ask. "It's the first letter of my last name." I would say in exasperation. I think they finally have the hang of it, after seven years of trying. They never did catch on in the photo processing department - we just had to take our film somewhere else.

My doctor's office likewise wanted to file my records under R. When I insisted that they be properly filed under C, the clerk responded "Well, then you'll always have to tell me Chance-Rainwater" as if I were going to come in one day demanding that my name was Schopenhauser. I suppose you would file that under H.

The other day, I was standing in line at the pharmacy. The woman ahead of me was vainly trying to get the clerk to look for her prescription under S. "Hyphenated last name?" I asked. She nodded. "Me too," I said "I had no idea how much trouble it was going to be.". "Yeah," she replied, "but it's worth it."" (Life with a Hyphen)

You know what? I do think that it is worth it. I don't really care how I am alphabetized. I chose this name and I like it----just the way it is.

KEGO

Simply Special Weekend

So, since my last post I have been taking a lot of steps to simplify (and better) my life. Thank you to all of my sweet friends for your patience and encouragement. You are all such dears.

In keeping with my new plan to make time for Drew and myself, we are heading to the Idea Festival in Louisville at the end of the week. I cannot wait! We love attending the lectures and seeing all of the amazing exhibits. It is a very fun and incredibly intellectually stimulating weekend.

We will be staying in one of our favorite places on earth---21c Hotel and Museum. It is a combination modern art museum and hotel in downtown Louisville. Even the hallways to the rooms are gallery spaces. We cannot get enough of the red penguins.


For those of you that haven't been there, you absolutely should! You will feel like you've been transported to an episode of Sex and the City. If you go, definitely plan to check out Proof on Main, the fabulous restaurant next door. I can't wait to try out my new 60's inspired red dress for the occasion.


I guess you can say that I am feeling more settled and just excited about what this fall has to offer. Simplify. Simplify. Simplify and enjoy.

Have a great weekend!

KEGO

Perfectly Perfect

We can certainly come back to the letter. We certainly will, in fact. Everything seems to circle back to it somehow or another. For now, I can't seem to make myself write about it (ie. I can't seem to write on the blog), so I am going to do myself the favor of steering away from this topic for now.


I've been busy lately. Really, really busy. I've always been a busy person, lots of activities and people to see. I like it that way. I like my life full of people and things to do---in fact, I love it that way. But, now---I'm not so sure how I feel about things. I'm feeling burned out.

I love everything in my life---my sweet husband, family, friends, jobs, going to parties, extracurriculars. I can't imagine giving anything up, but recently I've found myself riding the merry-go-round without the opportunity to get off. Sometimes I do want to get off. I want time for myself to do my own thing.

So, I'm trying to say no, set boundaries, budget time for myself and for my relationship. I know that those are the things that keep me grounded and make my marriage as wonderful as it truly is. I don't want us to get too busy for each other. I don't want things to get in the way. I want to please people so badly sometimes that I get in over my head. I lose sight of what is really important. I wear myself out.

I want to be perfect. I am the stereotypical perfectionist. It can't always be that way. I can't keep killing myself to make it that way. Sometimes you just can't vacuum the house. There are more important things in your life. Don't let them pass you by.

To all of you couples out there, please take some time today for yourself and for your significant other. You'll never regret that you did.

KEGO

The Letter Post Script

I haven't posted in a while. That attests to the power of the letter. It still has an incredible power. I don't like to talk about it---even to you.

Why does this letter hold so much power? What do I let it hold that kind of power?

Because it is an item which defined a relationship forever---a relationship with my husband's parents.

This single document has defined our relationship---not an easy one to begin with.

Don't judge me. Don't point the finger. I worked for half a decade to please them--and then this. The contents of that letter. Delivered on my wedding day. There are just some things from which you can never come back.


KEGO

The Letter

Being newly married was an amazing experience for me. Remember how I don't like change. Well, this change seemed to suit me very well. You would have thought that my husband and I had been living together for years. And we hadn't---we hadn't lived together at all. I had lived at home with my parents and he had only moved out a year prior. We shouldn't be good at this, but we were. We didn't fight over the toothpaste. We didn't fight over sharing covers in bed. We didn't fight about the toilet seat. We didn't fight about any of the things that couples debate in the early weeks/months of marriage.

We had one issue. Not an issue between us, but an issue all the same. It was a big issue to grapple with. It wasn't anything that was fair in the first weeks of newlywed-dom.

It was a letter. I didn't write it. Neither did he.

KEGO

The Phone Book

Did you know that you get only one free listing in the phone book? How were we going to be listed?

It was an issue that only arose a few months into our marriage. We finally decided to get a land line phone.

Owens?
That wasn't really both of us.

Greene-Owens? That didn't seem fair either. I had chosen to hyphenate my name. My husband had not.

Stay unlisted?
We wanted to be included in the phone book (we had to get a land line because I never answer my phone book). My grandparents and older friends still look us up that way.

It was another dilemma. Another time my name came into question. Was my hyphen a mistake? Should I have chosen something easier. This was, after all, the way things worked now.

Another choice. Another time that I had to choose to see my name in a way that I did not see myself.

But, I chose the easy way. Mrs. Owens. Well, really, Katherine Owens. Katherine and Andrew Owens. You can find us in the phone book. Well, you can find him.

I guess it wasn't that bad after all.

~warmly~
Katherine

Two Years of KEGO

On August 4th, my sweet husband and I celebrated two years of wedded bliss. We had a photo shoot to commemorate the day. Here are some of the pics shot by the wonderful Melanie Mauer.

Take time to tell your special someone that you care. Don't wait for the milestones, celebrate ALL the small stuff. Yes, everything can be wonderful, newlywed or not.

~warmly~

Katherine

Who Can you Please Sitting on the Fence?

Following my run-ins with the social security office and the driver's license renewal office, I found myself incredibly cautious of the name subject. I was sick of explaining why I had not chosen to simply "take my husband's name."

Even that statement bothered me. I couldn't help it! In my mind, I had chosen to take his name. I took it, tacked it onto mine, and added a hyphen. What was the big deal?

I wasn't concerned, however, with my friends. I just knew that they would understand. Yes, my young, hip, feminist-theory loving friends. I just knew that they would stand up, cheer and root for my decision.

I couldn't wait to tell them! I really was ready to get some positive feedback.

It was not as I had expected. Apparently, I was sitting on the proverbial fence.

There was no thunderous applause when I shared the big news with my friends. There were just more questions and declarations of concern.

Well if you felt that way, why didn't you just keep your name?

How can you consider your name liberating? You've marked yourself just the same!

I think that the hyphen sounds snotty and snobby!

You're just as much of a sell-out as those other brides that take his name!

Oh goodness! I wasn't ready for that.

On and on and on, it continued.

You're just sitting on the fence.

You didn't make a decision.

You made a compromise to suit your husband.

I don't think that they were being mean exactly. They were just confused. Heck sometimes I was confused. I made a decision that I felt was right for me. I wasn't always able to defend it chapter and verse, but it made sense to me.

What happened to congratulations on your great feminist stand. It sounds funny, but I had started to feel like I was quite courageous. After all, I'd been defending the lions for a while now.

What bothered me was that the only pleased person seemed to be myself. I know that is important, but I am a people pleaser. What can I say? I like and want that kind of affirmation. Sadly, it looked like I wasn't pleasing either side of the spectrum. I wasn't taking a traditional name approach, nor was I declaring my liberated independence as a woman. I was sitting somewhere in the middle.

My name seemed to make no one happy, but me. Wasn't that all that mattered?

~warmly~

Katherine

New License

Getting my new (or rather my temporary) Social Security card proved to be a very interesting experience. I found myself a couple of days later still mulling over the experience. I had decided that I was being overly sensitve. She was just trying to make sure that I was aware of the decision I was making. No big deal.

Getting my driver's license, however, made me question that conclusion.


Hi, I'm here to get a new license. I just got married, I gushed. It was amazing to me that those words continued to make me gush and display a very goofy grin on my face.

Do you have your new SS card?

Yes. I slid it across the counter.

Gre-nomeans? Greenowe? Green... What does this say?

Greene-Owens. I tried to really pronounce and articulate.

That's an awfully long name.

It sure is. (Here we go again!)

You know that no one will know how to say that.

Silence.

Are you aware that you will have to use all of this in your signature? Including on your license. It probably won't fit. You'll always have to write small to cram it in. I sure hope you have small handwriting.

Silence.

I knew a lady once who hyphenated her name. Big mistake. Those teachers never did know what do about her kids with those long names. So difficult to match them up to their parents.

Silence.

So, I'd just advise you to take your husbands name. Owens. That's a really nice name. I think Katherine Owens is a perfectly lovely name.

Were people really this opinionated? I had never met this woman before. Why did she feel the need to share this information. Was I really doing something that bad?

I got my new license. Yes, I kept the hyphen. Was I going to defend it at every turn?

Had my decision given everyone license to tell me what they thought?

I'd sure find out.

~warmly~
Katherine

The Big Changes

Everyone tells you that the first year of marriage is difficult. A lot of adjustment. A lot of change.

I had prepared myself for it. I don't particularly like change. Sure, I love to move the furniture around the house or dye my hair, but I don't like the big changes, important ones.

My family moved back to Lexington when I was in the 6th grade. This is the longest that we have every lived in one house. I also lived at home all through college. It was very convenient and a great way to save money. Plus, call me crazy, I am friends with my parents, and that great relationship means that they respect my space and autonomy.

So when it came time to move post-wedding, I was worried. This was one of those big changes. I had never lived away from home. I had gotten really comfortable in that particular home. My husband had even lived at my parents house for brief stints in college. It was kind of his home, too.

Yes, it helped that I was staying in the same city. Yes, it helped that we had purchased our condo the year before and I had spent a lot of time there, but this moving meant that I was really grown up. It meant that my home wasn't my parents anymore.

This fact really bothered me. Actually, to this day in my cell phone, I have never changed my parents house number to read anything other than home. Instead, I have made the distinction of Greene home and Condo home. I know that it is just semantics, but it made me feel better.

All of this, though had me worried. Was I going to like being married? Was this the difficulty that people talked about? Was this why the first year was so hard? This kind of adjustment?

Was it changing your name that made everyone so upset?

I was dreading the day that we returned home from our honeymoon. Really, I was dreading the next morning.---when I would wake up at my new home. Would I be sad? Would I cry? That would be embarrassing. It knew that it would make my husband feel terrible.

It was on that morning that my husband did one of the sweetest things that he has ever done. While I was still asleep, my husband left our house. I awoke to a sound that made me so unbelievably happy. My family dog, Kentucky Derby, was standing above me on the bed licking my face. He had brought the dog from my parent's house to wake me.

Perhaps my new home wasn't so different from the old one. Plus, why can't we have more than one place that we call home?

I guess that morning was a sign of the year that was to come. I am here to say that our first year was magical, unbelieveably wonderful. I'm not saying that it was perfect, that things weren't adjustments, but not really in the way that I had expected them to be. It was a year that will always remain precious and pure in my mind.

I'm glad that we had that year.

~warmly~
Katherine

Name Problem

The first time that I knew that my new name was a problem came as quite a shock. I can honestly say that I didn't think that names were a big deal. I was wrong. Apparently, I was very wrong.

This was the first of many times that people have shared with me the problem with being a hyphenate.

Upon the solid advice of my husband, I decided to visit the Social Security office to legally change in name in a very timely fashion. I had taken a few days to resolutely decide on the hyphenate (which I had), so now it was time to make things official. The Social Security office was the first step. That new card is required to take care of all other paperwork (drivers license, car registration, credit cards, any legal documents, etc).


Let me just say that visiting the Social Security office is an adventure in and of itself. A friend of mine described it as very french and bureaucratic. With many of friends spending time in France over the last several years, I knew exactly what she meant and it proved to be a great description. I entered the office (my mom had generously agreed to go with me) and took my number and waited for my turn.



An hour and a half later, we were still waiting. I called into the office to let them know that my "quick trip" to the Social Security office was dragging on. I wondered why they had smirked as a left saying "it will only take a minute. I'll be right back."

The place was packed. It wasn't possible to leave a buffer seat between yourself and the next party. We were all elbow to elbow. Waiting.

I looked around the room. Was anyone else here changing their name? I'm a pretty curious person, so I began surveying the room. I looked around for someone else on a post-wedding high. Someone examining/cleaning their wedding ring. Someone exceptionally tan and manicured. No takers.

And then it was my turn. My number was called. My mom and I headed up to the counter.

What can we do for you today?

I'm here to get a new Social Security card, I chirped. I just got married and I'm here to change my name.

Okay. I'll need you to fill out this paperwork to begin the process. She slid me the name change application form and a pen across the desk.

I begin to carefully print my new name. No spelling errors for this! First name. Katherine. Middle Name. Elizabeth. Last Name. G-R-E-E-N-E-hyphen-O-W-E-N-S.

It was very satisfying. My own last name hybrid. I doubted that their were many people floating around there with that name. I slid the paper back across the desk.

The woman looked at the paper, then at me and then at the paper. That's a lot of name, she said.

I guess it is.

You do understand that this will be your legal name?
Yes.

So you will have to write out this long thing every time you fill out any paperwork.

Yes.

You will have to include it as part of your signature.

Yes? Was she trying to talk me out of it?

Are you sure?

Yes.

Very sure.

Yes.

You can only get 10 Social Security cards in your lifetime.

Okay?

So if you change your mind about this name, you'll use up one of your cards.

Okay? Now I was getting defensive. She was crossing the line. I dare say that this was not information she passed along to every bride.

So you are sure?

Yes. Absolutely sure.

(Big sigh) Okay.

I left quickly with my temporary card. Was this how it was going to be at every turn of the name change journey? I left the Social Security office head swimming, not quite able to make sense of this encounter. Was she being mean? Was I being overly sensitive? It wasn't as if she was yelling at me. It was just that tone. She just seemed disapproving somehow.

I doubt she would have felt the need to say all of this if I were becoming Mrs. Katherine Owens. Was this really so weird? Was I making some kind of mistake that everyone could see but me?

~warmly~
Katherine

The Birth of KEGO

I'll let you in on a little secret. I think that part of the reason that my husband agreed to the name hyphenation (not that it was his decision, but I did want his stamp of approval) was the fact that he loved the new initals. K-E-G-O.

For my entire life, I have asked my mother what possessed her to give me the initials KEG. keg---like a keg of beer. A fact that my friends reminded me of daily. It was the reason that I didn't have my initials embroidered on my LLBean backpack. Katherine seemed like a safer bet.

She says that she always visualized my name in monogram (yes, we are very Kentucky!)---little k, big g, little e. KGE. Needless to say, my initials have been of interest to many friends and classmates. It has been the source of nicknames--including those of my husband.

I've known him now for 13 years. There is some discrepancy in this number (another story, another time), but for my purposes, 13 years. He, too, has long been on the band wagon of calling me "keg." Let's face it---if you know me---it is a pretty funny name. I couldn't be further from a bar hanging-out, party girl.

When we would discuss me changing my name after the wedding, we were somewhat sad to lose this name. Keg, no more. As much as I complained about it, I had actually grown to enjoy my initials. It was now funny to me, in a way that it hadn't been in elementary school. KGO? That just wasn't as cool.

Fast forward to the post-honeymoon car ride home. We had agreed on the hyphenation. Katherine Elizabeth Greene-Owens. Yes, it was long, but we were keeping it all.

Again, for those of you that know my husband, he has an unparralleled quick and witty tongue. I could see the wheels churning in his head. Oh goodness--what is he about to say.

KEGO! he exclaimed.

KEGO?

KEGO! KEGO! That's you! KEGO!

KEGO? Like an EGGO waffle?

Yeah. KEGO. Lego my KEGO.

The new me was born.



~warmly~
Katherine

What's in a Name?

We've all heard the saying, "what's in a name?" You've probably read the passage in Romeo and Juliet that talks about a rose by any other name, still smelling as sweet. What is in a name? Apparently, a lot. Apparently a whole lot.


I've been really discovering this whole name thing over the past couple of years. On August 4th, 2007, I married the love of my life. Now up until our wedding day, I proudly told other people how excited I was to be the future Mrs. Owens. It was a name that I even considered being monogrammed on a bag for our honeymoon. In hindsight, I'm glad that I did not.


I don't know what happened really. But, the day after our wedding, as we were preparing to leave for our honeymoon and opening wedding gifts, something snapped. It was a moment of complete panic--I am not being dramatic, either--it truly was.

My new husband and I were chatting about all of the stuff we wanted to do once we got back from our honeymoon. He casually mentioned that I should plan on going ahead with the name change process asap at the Social Security office. A friend of ours had gotten in a lot of trouble over a name change/driver's license issue.

I immediately started bawling--much to the shock and likely horror of my sweet groom. Did I say something? I'm sure that was what he was thinking. It was like everything hit me at once. I was thrilled to be married---I'd been planning our wedding for the past year and a half and we had been engaged for over four years. I'd even been planning to get married and be married as long as I can remember. It wasn't like I was unsure of the new life I was embarking upon. I was unsure of this new person. This new name. Who was this Mrs. Owens? Not me! Certainly not me! Where had my old self gone?

I dramatically blurted out. I don't want to change my name! I like my name! It seems silly now, but at that moment, I felt an unebelievable sense of panic. It was like my old life was completely gone. I was still crying, but not so hard as to see the hurt look on my husband's face. I knew that he was taking all of this personally. I could see in his eyes that he was questioning how I felt about him. It's so painful to see your partner give you that look. All over a stupid name.

It's not you! I promise it is not you---I tried to tell him. I composed myself and we agreed to not discuss this further until we returned home from our trip. He agreed. It's part of what I love about him. He let's me vent and then is okay to let me sit on things for a while. Sometimes I know that he wants to talk about it then, but he knows I tend to need that mulling time to make a decision or formulate an opinion. He allows me that, and I appreciated it, especially then.

We had a lovely honeymoon. Beyond lovely, in fact, at Blackberry Farm in Walland, TN. It is perhaps the most romantic place that I have ever been. I'm thankful to have enjoyed a return trip. While we were there, I let the name thing slide. I let the hotel staff call me Mrs. Owens. I never said a word. We just enjoyed ourselves. It was spectacular.


The name thing did not resurface until the car ride home. Haven't you had those car rides where the conversations flow freely, honestly and without judgment. It's like you are in this safe place. Cars have often been our place to talk. Roxy, my red beetle, is a place of comfort.

I told my husband that changing my name didn't feel right anymore. I like my middle name, Elizabeth, and I didn't want to lose it for the sake of keeping my maiden name. Plus, I wanted people to know that I was a Greene. I'm proud to be recognized as Ken and Alice Greene's daughter. I didn't want to lose that. If it became my middle name, no one would use it. No one would make those name connections. It would soon fade into an under-used initial G.


Don't you want people to know that we are married? That was the question that continually resurfaced in our conversation. Of course, I do! I just had a lavish,200-person wedding. I wanted to show how much I love you in front of all of our friends and family.


Then why don't you want to show it in name? Why is that the defining mark of coupledom. We have plenty of friends who don't share last names. Are they less married?


What about our future kids? Shouldn't their parents have the same name? I don't know! I haven't thought that far. Why does this matter?

I should mention, by the way, that my husband is incredibly empathetic and sweet person. He wasn't doing or saying any of this to be mean. He was raised in a much more traditional home than I was, which often contributes to these contradictions between us. These questions that he was raising, in part, were his playing devil's advocate. He wanted a rationalization behind my sudden change of mind. After four years of Mrs. Owens talk, he wanted to know what had changed.


The conversation continued. Should we keep our names? Should we make some kind of last name hybrid? Gowens? Growens? Grow? Was that weird?

A four hour car ride later, and we had reached a decision. I'd hyphenate. Greene-Owens. It would force people to use both names. It would make us both happy. I felt very relieved. Little did I know what a controversial move that would be. Controversial indeed.

This blog will serve to discuss what happened next, life as newlyweds, being a wife and my journey and sometimes battle as a hyphenate in this world.

~warmly~
Katherine