Last month The Redhead requested opinions on whether or not she should change her name when she marries Joey. What readers wrote in her comments, sharing their experience and advice was both humorous and helpful, I thought.
Dean Esmay wrote a post recently describing his feelings about name changing. I would try to quote part of it, but then I would end up quoting all of it. In particular I appreciated how he expressed his love for his wife and family.
I exchanged my lengthy British (although often mistaken for Native American) surname for a shorter Chinese one. My maiden name was less common from a global perspective and more distinctive from a local one (almost everyone in the Seattle area who has my maiden name is a relative of mine). I went from having a specific identity to anonymity: there are millions of Leungs on the planet. However, since we have not often lived in cities with large Chinese populations, Leung has become somewhat distinctive as well. Nevermind that I don’t look like my last name. 
I don’t think it matters whether a woman takes her husband’s name or not. I see the choice as a cultural one: what does it mean to the couple? I don’t think any global generalizations can be made about a family’s love based on who has whose name. In China, for example, I have heard that wives retain their maiden names. On The Redhead’s post, people commented that Canadian women don’t change their names either. There are practical reasons to keep one’s maiden name. Two friends who were physicans when they married worried that confusion would result from two doctors in the same hospital with the same name. Sometimes it may not seem to make sense to make a change. (Eric Rice’s post on his experience with Google Suggest suggests other reasons in this age to consider when making a name change.)
Life as a Leung has been interesting for me but I’m glad I changed my name. It did not require excessive amounts of paperwork, from what I remember. It was a simple thing to do. And it may have made our life simpler. I like it that we all have the same name, parents and kids. I like the convenience of only five letters to type. I like my husband too, and the more of life I share with him, the better.
Hugh in The Redhead’s comments wrote
So, with all the legalistic and philosophical fretting now done, here is my advice you you: Wendy, call yourself by the name that makes your heart sing. But pay attention to whether it makes Joey’s heart sing as well.
Dean described what makes his heart sing…I can’t resist quoting these few sentences after all…
My own happiness comes second to whatever she needs, and her changing her name to mine signals that to me. Flesh of my flesh, blood of my blood. She’s my reason for being. Her wearing my name doesn’t make her subordinate to me. I many ways, it makes me subordinate to her.
And that’s the gist, really: we are subordinate to each other.
I know the name that makes my heart sing and I’m glad I have it: his.
