Chattels
Heather and I are housesitting for friends in New Farm. It's a lovely worker's cottage, and we have it all to ourselves, apart from two adorable kittens. It's surprisingly pleasant to be woken up by two playful bundles of fluff at three o'clock in the morning. Even more pleasant is waking up to find the kittens asleep, entwined, between Heather and me.
Today I was thinking about the possibility of writing something (apart from the blog) about the wedding. An article or, should I ever muster the work ethic, a book. And I thought about what I told my Dad when I came out: 'I won't be running around telling lots of people about my sexuality. I don't want to embarrass you.'
The problem, of course, is that if I write about the marriage, it becomes a very public event. If I published something, my parents would probably be mortified. My last name is very distinctive, and very easily linked back to my immediate family. If my last name were Smith, things would be easier.
I was sitting outside the New Farm library today thinking about this. I got there half an hour before they opened, so I had plenty of thinking time. I was thinking that I could adopt Heather's last name, since, firstly, it's hers, and secondly, it's quite a common name. Then I would have the freedom to publish whatever I want, free of my family's concerns.
I thought about this for a few minutes before realising that all of these concerns are about ownership, in a way. Ownership, which historically was one of the most important -- and most sexist -- parts of marriage. Is this really what I should be spending time worrying about? My father's right to 'own' part of my story? Passing that right over to Heather?
Absolutely not. It's my story, name, right. I'll write about it all I bloody want. I love my family. But I won't let them control what isn't theirs.
Today I was thinking about the possibility of writing something (apart from the blog) about the wedding. An article or, should I ever muster the work ethic, a book. And I thought about what I told my Dad when I came out: 'I won't be running around telling lots of people about my sexuality. I don't want to embarrass you.'
The problem, of course, is that if I write about the marriage, it becomes a very public event. If I published something, my parents would probably be mortified. My last name is very distinctive, and very easily linked back to my immediate family. If my last name were Smith, things would be easier.
I was sitting outside the New Farm library today thinking about this. I got there half an hour before they opened, so I had plenty of thinking time. I was thinking that I could adopt Heather's last name, since, firstly, it's hers, and secondly, it's quite a common name. Then I would have the freedom to publish whatever I want, free of my family's concerns.
I thought about this for a few minutes before realising that all of these concerns are about ownership, in a way. Ownership, which historically was one of the most important -- and most sexist -- parts of marriage. Is this really what I should be spending time worrying about? My father's right to 'own' part of my story? Passing that right over to Heather?
Absolutely not. It's my story, name, right. I'll write about it all I bloody want. I love my family. But I won't let them control what isn't theirs.
posted by Michelle | 4:05 pm
1 Comments:
When long-time partner and I got married last year, we didn't really talk about the name thing until the last minute - I'm like mydogmo, I kept my own name, but I expect any children we have will take his name. His family doesn't understand that, though - I still get cards and letters from them to "Mrs. ___" and I have to write back explaining that there's no such person. Eventually it will sink in, I'm sure. For me the decision was about identity. I am who I am, and my name is part of that. The children will have thier names as part of the identity they grow up with. I find the whole hyphenating thing to be tedious and unworkable beyond one generation. If you have two people with hyphenated 'maiden' names, then do you combine them to be a quadruple hyphen? Ridiculous. Another solution that happens here in the happy valley, USA, is that the couple takes entirely new names (usually really fluffy names like Loving or Oak Spirit, Oy!) to signify that with thier union they are new people. Again, I think that doesn't honor who you were up until you agreed to merge your identity with another person, no matter how enlightened. And geez, pick a name that's even a LITTLE butch, hey? OakLog, SolidOakFinish, Clock-you-in-the-doo-with-a-piece-of-Oak, not fluffy sweetness-and-light New Agey cess. Bah!
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