Wedding Blog

Pssst, if you missed part 1 - get it here. We left off a week before the wedding.

Four days before our wedding, Mr. Meatball had run out on an errand, and called to ask me to come upstairs to the car and help him with something. I could tell he was crying. Terrified that he had been hurt, I tore upstairs to the street to find him crumpled in the driver’s seat of our car, an emotional wreck. He had just gotten off the phone with his parents, and told them the news about our name change decision.

Suffice it to say, it did not go over well, and I had never seen Mr. M so upset in our seven years together. There’s just something about Mr. M that’s so pure; seeing him hurt or in pain is utterly heartbreaking.

The details are unimportant, but basically his parents saw our decision as doing exactly the opposite of what we had intended it to mean. They felt betrayed. That it was a rejection of the family name. That it was a slap in the face of their history. And Mr. M, who has always enjoyed a very open and supportive relationship with his parents, was devastated both by the severity of their reaction, and the fact that we were now in a crucial position to either go with what they want, or to follow our own compass. Having both been raised by families that encourage innate compass-following, it was a very conflicted feeling for both of us.

I immediately bent to their will like one of Uri Geller’s spoons. I wasn’t about to start my marriage by driving a wedge between my beloved and his family. Sure, I am devastated that we cannot share a last name, that our children cannot carry both names forward, and this could be the end of the line for my family name. I know in my heart that our intentions and the execution of them were nothing but respectful and inclusive in nature, and that this choice is truly only between the two people marrying each other. But preserving the integrity of our extended familial relationships is more important, and our desire to marry with the full blessing of his parents was stronger than our need to win this fight.

So two days before the wedding, we found ourselves back in line to get a new marriage license. This time, filled a different set of emotions. This time, with a different look in our eyes as we filled in our names. This time, with a different decision for our future.

Now, let me be crystal clear: This is not a post inviting any judgment upon my husband’s parents, nor is it intended to be an indictment of them. I hope that it is not construed to make them appear as bad people, because nothing could be further from the truth. They are loving, giving and very supportive; I appreciate and care for them very deeply. They made Mr. M into the man he is today, and that’s the greatest gift I’ve ever received. So, please, do not misunderstand the point.

The name change game is a personal and often highly sensitive part of the marriage process. I know women who put off a decision until many years after their marriage because they can’t make up their minds, or they fear a family reaction that goes against their wishes. I also know women who don’t think twice about giving up their name and can’t wait to make the switch. You never know what reaction your choice might incite among loved ones, and I recommend that you weigh the matter and possible consequences carefully before making a choice. The waters of this decision are muddled and murky; you never know what feelings lie beneath until you swim through it, yourself.

So how does this story end? Stay tuned for the finale… coming soon to a blog near you!