My fiancé and I like to think of ourselves as a modern couple. We both work full-time. We both pay for exactly half the rent. We even talked our respective employers into giving us the exact same salaries. It was a weird conversation.
We don’t have “her side” of the bed and “my side” of the bed. We sleep on top of each other, alternating who is on top each night. Equality.
We love each other, and we support each other in all of our endeavors. We actively avoid conforming to outmoded gender stereotypes that still pervade our society today, in both subtle and flagrant ways.
As such, I am proud to announce that we will be taking each other’s first names after the wedding. I will become Anastasia Ingber, and she will become David Gutierrez.
[Please note: I just made up the name Anastasia Gutierrez because I don’t want creeps on the internet googling my real fiancé. If she wants creeps googling her, she can ask them to do it herself. See? Progressive!]
And honestly, why should she take my last name? Just because centuries ago only a son could inherit lands and titles? That’s backwards as hell.
Alternatively, why should we combine our names? All we’d be doing is setting in motion a chain of events that ultimately forces our great-great-grandchildren to get a hand cramp when they try to write down all eight of their hyphenated last names.
We are all about progressive values in our household. And if that means doing objectively insane things in the name of equality, so be it.