Changing Your Surname With Marriage: Is It Worth It?
I’ve been placed on hold with Virgin Velocity, anxiously watching the call time shift to double digits.
I’m due to fly interstate over the weekend, and thought I’d finally get around to creating a frequent flyer account. Without hesitation, I entered my details - first name, surname - leaning on the name I’d grown to embody in the last five years. My married name – Giuffrida – would come to mark my new identity; my family name.
As a journalist, my name means more to me than most. I would carry on my maiden name, Gay, for work. It’s an epithet synonymous with the countless stories, emails and connections crafted throughout the early years of my career.
Turns out, having two last names doesn’t fly with the airlines. For jetsetters, the name on your ticket must match the name attached to your points, regardless of whether you travel for business or leisure. Hence, I’m on hold. Flying regularly as Hannah Gay makes a headache for Hannah Giuffrida.
To me, each name is as significant as the other, taking on lives of their own. I had lived 26 years of my life as Hannah Gay. Any form of documentation – from my birth certificate to my social media handles – have proudly borne that name.
Giuffrida would mark the turn of my life as a married woman, the name of my son, the name on my mortgage. It would symbolise my love for my husband; our bond; our life as one unit.
Changing my surname would serve as an important signifier of an identity I’d created for myself. An identity that, rather than being born into, I have elected and tailored to my liking. For some, taking on the surname of their partner is culturally significant. Surprisingly, the trend remains Western-leaning. Chinese women, whose maiden names are firmly linked to their fathers’ lineages, frown at the idea of taking their husbands’ surnames.
Despite my soul existing in the world as two, going by duo names remains a constant cause for frustration. Frankly, it’s a logistical nightmare. Back in 2018 shortly after tieing the knot, I took a rather unromantic trip to Medicare with my husband to have my surname changed. It was the first of many in-person, over-the-phone and over email exchanges I’d have to notify the world of my new alias.
Everybody from my bank to my doctor, Service NSW to Apple were contacted. In five years, I’ve filled out form-after-form, amending my details to better reflect the woman I would now live my life as outside of working hours.
“In five years, I’ve filled out form-after-form, amending my details to better reflect the woman I would now live my life as outside of working hours.”
So why not stick to my maiden name for all the big stuff, you ask? Because taking on my husband’s name was to be more than just a romantic gesture. It was to serve as a reflection of my future life choices. I figured sitting on the same Medicare card as my partner and son would make the most financial and emotional sense.
At the time, I wrongly assumed sharing a surname was a prerequisite, and that if I or one of my boys were in an accident and needed a spokesperson, our shared names would shoot us to the top of the list. Turns out, the government doesn’t care what your name is - being married is enough to grant you VIP status.
I also saw it simply as a matter of convenience. If pairing my partner and I together from a line-up, a shared last name would make us easier to spot. For third parties like childcare, postal workers and mechanics, sharing a name makes it easier to act on each other’s behalf. But the ease starts and stops there.
As a female, there are countless reasons why retaining the maiden name is preferred. The choice marks a lean toward feminist ideology. It’s a reflection of the modern Western world, in which more women work and fewer have children. Same sex couples, who are able to legally marry in Australia, are consequently spoilt for choice when picking a name.
Double-barreling my husband and my surnames, while not all that commonplace, would have made good sense. Although from a logistical stand-point, it would still count as a name change. And so the headache draws on.
As I toy with my multiple brand loyalty memberships, library cards and Virgin Velocity memberships, I consider what could have been. Would I have done it if I knew what I know now?
Truthfully, I adore being a Giuffrida. Ultimately, it’s not paperwork that busies by mind, but the love I have for my husband, his family, (and his exotic and savoury Italian roots).
To newly-weds, I say: before you redo your accounts, do the research. And I mean, check all of the things. If like me, you’ve never quite gotten around to merging those superannuation accounts, I’d advise doing that before submitting your change of name. Or when signing up for flyer miles, consider who you’ll be travelling as next.
Because getting to the paperwork stage is what they really mean when they say ‘the honeymoon is over’. Setting aside the extra five minutes to check each account first will be worth it in the long-haul.
Speaking of long-haul, Virgin Velocity answered. They fixed my account.
Now that wasn’t so hard, was it?
Image credit: Weddywood via Pinterest