Just Beth

Do any of you ever watch the videos of the popular blog ladies talking about different mom-related subjects? It’s called Momversation, and I watch for a few different reasons. One is that Heather Armstrong is my mentor. (wait, do you have to AGREE to be someones mentor for them to be able to call you their mentor? Like, is she going to get mad because I didn’t ask her to be my mentor, and more than that, that she would never [probably... a girl can dream] agree to be? my mentor?)

The other reasons have more to do with Alice Bradley’s adorable mouth (I just want to kiss her) and Rebecca Woolf’s eye makeup (an aside… I hope I am never within twenty feet of Rebecca Woolf, she frightens the living daylights out of me. In the event that I should ever come in contact with her, my deodorant will immediately fail, my face will erupt with pustules, I will undoubtedly pass gas and am CERTAIN to say something WHOLLY inappropriate. Loudly. This is what happens when I am confronted by anything as spectacular as Rebecca Woolf. It defeats me.).

I watched this ‘Momversation’ just now titled “Did You Take Your Husband’s Name?” and am really surprised that my opinion on the matter is so different than these ladies’.

When I married the first time I took my husbands name. I knew he wanted me to, and it really didn’t matter to me at the time. To be honest, it was waaay down on the list of priorities, which included 1) being pregnant at twenty-one and 2) OMG I’M HAVING A BABY AT TWENTY-ONE. It was a little… consuming.

When I divorced him I dropped his name like you’d drop a bad habit (duh-dum, dum). I was – among other things – very interested in re-creating my identity. As time went by and my wounds healed and my anger subsided I hoped to eventually marry again, but was still ambivalent about the whole ‘take my name or not’ discussion.

It’s just a name, after all. A word you put to a person (two words, three… whatever). My point is that I buy the whole ‘a rose by any other name’ idea. If you love your name, if it sounds good on your tongue and feels good, by all means, keep it. If you feel strongly about it one way or another, do THAT. What’s the big deal?

My husband has a fantastic name: Andy Harrington. When we knew each other in high school, ‘Andy Harrington’ was one-word, one person, one (smokin’ hot) BAD BOY. Always first and last name because ‘Andy Harrington’ could have been the brand name for outrageous behavior and naughty Catholic boy deliciousness. (yes, I am still in high school and in love with the gorgeous prep school bad boy)(who I married. I WIN! ahem. sorry.)

TO THE POINT, which I have, I SWEAR.

I took his name. I love being Mrs. Harrington. Mrs. Him. And because some people I admire, like Heather Armstrong, also took their husbands’ names I figured we had the same kind of reasons.

See, I am a feminist, I guess. I think it means something different to others than what it means to me, so I’m a little timid to declare I AM A FEMINIST to the world when I don’t know what it means to you… anyway, equality is something that is VERY important to me and I’ll leave it at that for now.

It doesn’t take anything away from *me* to be his wife. I am better for being his wife and partner. I married him because being with him makes me feel brave and smart and fun. I am also mother to my children, my mothers’ daughter… I am your friend and her enemy and … you get the point. I don’t feel any less like *me* simply because I also belong to other people.

I’m still just Beth. Just Beth who married the man of her dreams and became Mrs. Bethany Harrington. I figured every independent, strong woman thought like that… that we are past the need for Ms. and hyphens and the constant explanations. I love my husband, I love his name, and I feel proud to be one of many Mrs. Harrington’s. We’re a classy bunch, I’ll tell you what (*snicker*). It doesn’t change the fact that I’m still me.

So that’s what I think.

What, you missed the point somewhere in there when I wax all poetic about how enamored I am of my husband? Or was it when I went into too much detail about how awkward I would be in the presence of someone as cool and gorgeous as Rebecca Woolf?

I thought we were beyond the insecurities of the past, when women were perceived more as their husbands’ chattel than as their partners. I thought the Women’s Rights Movement and the continual push for equality and all that… well, I thought it worked*. I guess maybe I still think everyone has the same respect for others that I do, and that no one thinks less of me because I enjoy being me, Mrs. Bethany Harrington.

So what do you think? Did YOU take your husbands name? Why or why not? I’m really interested. Like I said, I assumed most people thought like I do. I would LOVE to hear from some guys, too… what do you guys think… did your wife take your name? Did she hyphenate? Did YOU hyphenate? Would you take your wife’s name if she asked you to?

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MOSTLY, please understand. I’m not trying to imply that sexism doesn’t still exist. Not. At. All. OK, caveat over. Harrington, OUT!