There’s a topic that keeps coming up between us, and lately it’s been on my mind more deeply: my name. More precisely, I am who I am with my name—and I wouldn’t change it even if we got married.
This isn’t some big, rebellious statement; it’s a quiet certainty inside me. I know many still find it odd when a woman keeps her own name after marriage. But for me, it’s not about keeping distance—it’s about holding onto my true self.
A Few Decades Ago, It Wasn’t a Choice
Back then, every woman automatically became “-né,” regardless of whether she liked how it sounded or felt it was hers. To me, the “-né” always felt like saying: Szabó’s, Varga’s, István’s… as if marriage meant the woman became her husband’s property. Not out of malice, but because of the mindset of the times.
Thankfully, we live in a different world now. We can choose: keep our own name, take the other’s, or even share a double name. There’s something truly freeing about this freedom.
I’ve Reflected a Lot on Where My Resistance Comes From
Our relationship with marriage has always had its ups and downs, but after all this time and shared experiences, I can confidently say it’s not born from doubt. On the contrary, it feels like a way we respect each other’s free will.
There was a time we were sure we didn’t need all the fuss. Then life situations—like having kids or handling paperwork—brought it up. Legally, things would be simpler as a married couple, I won’t deny that.
But every time we reached the point of “so, are we really doing this?” it felt like marriage would be more about convenience—and a hefty extra expense we could spend on a trip instead. That felt so deflating we kept saying no.
Our relationship’s strength doesn’t depend on a signature. We’ve always agreed that if it matters to the other, we’re in—because our shared happiness comes first. But the paper itself doesn’t add to what we already feel.
One thing I’m sure of: if we ever do get married, I will still keep my own name.
Not Distance, But Self-Identity
For a long time, I struggled to explain why I feel this so strongly. It’s not about my husband’s family—in fact, I love and respect my in-laws deeply. They’ve been like second parents for nearly two decades, and I’m endlessly grateful for them.
So it’s not about the last name or its origin. I just feel this path isn’t my story. It’s beautiful and worthy of respect, part of me, but not my whole self. My own name holds something of who I’ve always been, and I don’t want that to fade behind another name.
When our daughter was born and took her father’s last name, I thought a lot about this. I wondered if I’d be the odd one out in the family, but then I realized it didn’t bother me. Her name fits her perfectly—natural, rhythmic, and memorable.
I also thought maybe I cling to my name because I’ve been writing under it since my teens, and my book was published with it. That definitely matters, but I felt something else was still missing from my self-reflection.
A Special Confirmation from the World of Numbers
Recently, I looked at this from a numerology perspective. Numerology isn’t fortune-telling but a self-awareness tool using the energies of numbers and letters. When I calculated the vibration of my current name, it was amazing to see how well it aligns with my life—my goals, my calling, and what I stand for.
Out of curiosity, I checked what would happen if I took my partner’s name—either his alone or a combined version. The results didn’t match my current one, but interestingly, both new versions showed the same energy and number. Not bad, just different—someone who, according to the analysis, isn’t me and who I wouldn’t want to be after marriage.
That’s when I truly understood: I keep my own name not to distance myself, but to be fully present as myself.
Equality, Choice, Freedom
It’s still rare here, but I think it’s a beautiful gesture that more men are choosing to take their wife’s last name after the wedding (or something similar). To me, this is one of the clearest signs of equality—it’s not about who “belongs” to whom, but about creating a new family with a shared name and shared decisions.
Of course, I don’t think everyone should do this, nor do I believe it’s mandatory to keep our maiden names. But it feels good to see there’s no single path anymore. We can write our own story—on paper and beyond. Because even in the most beautiful relationships, we truly belong together when we stay true to who we’ve always been.
