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