The Mrs?

After all the excitement of last week, the past few days have been kind of a letdown. I turned to S last night and asked him “Wanna get married again? It was so much fun!” 😉

On the other hand, it’s been comforting to know that life goes on as normal. We’ve already lived together for almost three years and I have felt calm and content throughout this entire experience, knowing that we already know each other deeply and there will be no rude awakenings.

But damn does it feel good to be married. 🙂 I get a little thrill everytime I look at my ring finger (or his). There is a new level of comfort that I can actually feel. It’s hard to really put into words.

An interesting topic that has come up multiple times is the issue of our names. S knew early on that I wasn’t planning on changing my name. We discussed hyphenation, but knowing how long both of our last names were, we decided that would just be cruel to our future offspring. S seriously contemplated changing his name to mine, but decided to stick with his own for the same reason as me: we’ve been who we are for decades and it would be hard to let that go.

So we are a baby family with our own names and our own identities. I am not “Mrs. S” or “Mrs. S’ Last Name”.

And frankly, I am annoyed that I am the only one of our duo that is even asked about whether I changed my name. And when S mentions that he contemplated a switch, it’s a huge deal to everyone that he even thought about it. I know it’s tradition and yada yada yada, but who says it has to be this way? (Tangential-yet-related-note: Why should the bride have “maids” and “matrons”, while the groom gets “men”? Hogwash.)

Getting married for me was an act of liberation. I was freeing myself to create a partnership and a friendship with someone who knows the best and the worst of me and sticks around for the next day, and the next. I was allowing myself to be vulnerable and rely on the love and support of another. I was acknowledging that I was whole by myself and in relationship.

So am I a “Mrs”? I am in the sense that I made a commitment. A serious, hopefully lifelong commitment to love and be loved.

But that doesn’t mean I lose myself in the process.

Or for that matter, my name.

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