What’s In A Name?

Taking my husband’s name wasn’t a feminist choice. Here’s why I did it.

a picture of traditional red rose tattoos on someone’s skin

Nearly three years ago I stood yoga mat under my arm, belly protruding, lining up to register before beginning my prenatal yoga class. I’m not sure if the practitioner was doing her own little case study, but for the more ‘interesting’ names, she’d ask “is it yours, or did you marry it?”