Miss Maiden Name

My full name consists of two different languages mashed together with old-fashioned sensibilities – but it feels right even if it doesn’t roll off the tongue very prettily. When people have taken a stab at it, it is usually horrendously and amusingly wrong. I’ve been called “new-guy-en” and “nug-gui-en” among other things since I was a child (it’s actually pronounced Nguyễn), but it never really bothered me unless the person was obviously inquiring about my last name specifically because I am Vietnamese and female. My name is quintessentially me. It’s part of who and what I am. And thinking about how I’ve always identified and the possibility of changing part of it if I decide to marry fills me with no small amount of trepidation.

Unfortunately, for women more than men, a change in marital status is often announced to society at large by changes to last name and honorifics. A married man remains a “Mr.” before and after his marriage. A woman, however, goes from ambiguously attached “Miss/Ms. Maiden Name” to being identified, or assumed to be identified, as married “Mrs. Husband’s Surname.” Even more fascinating is that in some cultures, as one of my friends has informed me, a married woman actually takes on the first name of her husband as her last name. There are alternatives, of course. For example, some women prefer to hyphenate, a few choose to retain their maiden name, and on some rare occasions, the husband can choose to take their wife’s last name. But in each case it is interesting to note that even if a woman retains some aspect of her original last name, she is still likely to change the honorifics that precede it from “Ms./Miss” to “Mrs.” to indicate her change in status whereas for a man there is no such change.

Changing one’s last name is a simple change of noun, but at least on a surface symbolic level, it can alter how we view our identities. Less common name changes (or lack of thereof) in their own way announce to society that the married woman has made an active choice to retain her former identity. It is not always obvious that a woman has chosen to hyphenate or retain her maiden name and it can lead to awkward introductions when the other party accidentally assumes that a woman goes by her husband’s last name. When a woman has to preemptively inform others that she goes by a hyphenated last name or their maiden name, it is often viewed as an act of independence, a bid to preserve a woman’s pre-marital identity or an unwillingness to be marked as being married to a particular person. It seems rather unfortunate that a woman’s pre-martial identity should be viewed as something that must be actively chosen to be “preserved” or be in danger of being forgotten. One would think a woman has the freedom to choose a name that she feels truly reflects their identity rather than adopting one because of expectation and having that name determine her identity.

In addition, for her children who have little choice in the matter of which name to take – whether it’s her maiden name, her husband’s name, or a hyphenated version – this notion of name and identity raises interesting dynamics. For example, some of my friends have expressed that they identify more with one side of their family simply because it is their last names. The phrase “I’m more of a (insert father’s last name/family name here)” seems more common than “I’m a (insert mother’s maiden name here)” if one’s mother decided upon the traditional route. And if your mother decided to retain her last name while you have your father’s last name, it is not always clear to others upon first meeting that your parents go by different titles.

In some ways, I suppose I am fortunate to not have extra complications with my last name. I’ve never had to personally deal with separating my mother’s maiden name from my father’s name. For historical reasons, my last name is the most common family name in Vietnam. So when my parents met each other in America and married, my mother’s marital status changed but her name didn’t. No extra changes or hyphenating was required. And even though Vietnamese culture is typically patriarchal, in my case last/family name was one of the things that marriage did not change for my mother. She retained that aspect of her identity. And though I spend more time with my mother’s family because they live closer to me, I never feel like I’m more close to one side of my family based solely on my mother or father’s last name. When it comes to names, it’s simple for me. We’re all Nguyens. However, if my mother had had a different last name she most likely would have taken on my father’s name and I’m not entirely sure how I would feel about that. Not having a last name that was equally my father’s and mother’s seems odd to me. I think that if I had to choose, I would probably retain my last name entirely or hyphenate.

Despite all that I’ve said, I don’t think it’s completely terrible to take on a new identity for a woman. One of the great things about the mutability of names is that they can change to reflect one’s self-defined identity, and in that case I’m all for it. Names can be changed to better reflect one’s preferences (if one disagrees with the birth name decided by one’s parents, for example) or reflect a new identity that one wishes to take. Taking on another’s name can be a happy occasion during marriage, and hopefully, the decision making process involves careful consideration of one’s preferences and truly reflects one’s individual identity rather than cultural expectation. In any case, I think names and titles should not categorize or define us. Rather, names are what we choose to identify as quintessentially “us” and it’s the woman who defines the name, not the name who defines the woman.