The end of an era is looming. 34 years to be precise. For 34 years, I’ve been Miss D and soon, in 26 days in fact, I’ll very proudly become Mrs H.
As a little girl, you dream of what your name will be once you grow up and get married; you doodle your autograph until the cows come home but the one thing you don’t give any thought or indeed concern to, is the loss of your maiden name.
Up until recently, I’d not really given it a second thought. Until now. And all of a sudden, I feel like I’m mourning a part of me. Although not a physical part of me, it’s a huge part of who I am, where I’m from and it’s my identity.
Upon discussing this with my fiance, he very kindly (and matter of factly), told me that if it makes me happy, to continue and keep my maiden name. I won’t as I’m marrying him and call me old fashioned, but I like that you take your husband’s name (yes suffragettes I can hear you turning in your graves, but don’t worry I’ll be using my vote wisely next month, so not all is lost).
2 years since our little Prince arrived and finally, we’ll all have the same surname. It may be my Catholic upbringing, but I still feel terribly uneasy when I’m asked my name where our son is concerned and I reply with Miss D – the guilt and the shame kicks in, ridiculous at my age, but you can’t shun what you’ve been brought up to believe.
So on that note, even though I’ll be sad to lose my name, I’ll embrace my new one with vigour and excitement – excitement at the next part of our lives together and that of formally joining my husband’s family. There may only be my Father in Law, but he’s a cracking old soul and I’ll be delighted to call him my FIL and indeed, take his name too, that of my husband and of course of my son.
Soon enough it’ll be good bye Miss D, but hello Mrs H and on to a brand new chapter in our lives. And I simply can’t wait.