I’m a good little feminist. I could have told you that I would never take my husband’s last name when I was six years old. Unless maybe his last name was Disney…I guess.
At 32, little has changed. I still wouldn’t take a man’s name. But a woman’s…well, maybe.
My partner and I will be married next year and have begun discussing the more complex practical realities of our relationship. How will we procure our first kid? What are the special legal issues that we face as a same-sex couple? Who would get the dog in the event of a divorce? Oddly, the last is probably the most intense of them all and I am the one who loses custody.
Hard decisions aside, the most life-impacting decision thus far has been with regard to last names. If I were straight, I probably wouldn’t care so much about this. There…
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