So, I did something this past weekend that many people (myself included) thought I may never do. I got married.
Now, you may be thinking, “But Skye, you are such a wonderful and amazing woman! You are smart and talented and thoughtful and kind and you cook and bake no nobody’s business! Why would you be afraid that you would never get married?”
Here’s the thing: I wasn’t afraid that I would never get married. I never thought “I won’t feel happy/satisfied/complete until I am legally joined to someone else through the bonds of matrimony” (besides, when you say it like that, does it really sound all that great?). It’s more that I just never really planned on it. Just like I never planned on having kids, or living in a certain town/region/country, or having a certain job. I have seen enough other people’s best laid plans get laid to waste by the whims of fate. I’ve seen friends and family members chasing some phantom of happiness and miss all the joy and perfection that exists in the here and now. So I made the choice to spend my time and energy being happy with my life and self as I am instead of banking all my potential future happiness on something that may never actually happen.
And now enters the “F” word: Feminist. I’m not going to go into a huge monologue about the history of the feminist movement. I consider myself a feminist in the same way I consider myself a vegetarian. They are both ideologies that help me make choices and live my live in a way that I believe brings me closer to my true self while at the same time making the world maybe just a little bit better. My lack of desire for wedding bells really hasdvery little to do with my feminist beliefs. I appreciate the fact that, as a woman today, I have a wide range of choices about how I live my life. I also appreciate that more and more of those choices are becoming widely accepted as “normal.” When woman were fighting to gain ground in the working world, a woman who wanted to stay home and raise a family was looked down upon by those pounding on the glass ceiling. Not so much now.
When Brian and I first started dating, I knew that he was a guy I could spend a good chunk of my life with. I know the facts and statistics. I know that having a piece of legal paper doesn’t guarantee happily ever after any more than not having that paper means you won’t make it last. There was a little inkling in the back of my mind that we might some day make it legal (mostly brought on by a whole slew of people asking if we would and the fact that the Army wouldn’t recognize me otherwise), but it wasn’t an urgent thing for me.
So, much to the dismay of my more romantically inclined friends and family, our decision to get legally wed really boiled down to logistics. I want to be with him. He wants to be with me. In order for that to happen in the Army world, we needed that little piece of legal paper. As I stood up in front of friends and family and recited our vows, I didn’t feel any monumental shift in my feelings toward Brian because I had decided months ago that he would be my partner. Now it’s legal.
You may wonder then, what prompted this little diatribe. Well, I had a friend ask me if I was going to change my name. When I replied that, yes, I would take Brian’s last name, she responded with dismay. She said that she saw me as a feminist name-keeper type and expressed that she wasn’t able to let go of her identity by changing her name when she got married. This comment did not sit well with me on several levels (
1. I didn’t ask for her opinion. 2. She didn’t ask for my reasoning before devaluing my decision. 3. My name is only tangentially connected to my identity and therefore her choice-struggle is irrelevant to me. 4. Really, I need a fourth reason? I just used “tangentially” in a sentence, doesn’t that should count as a fourth reason by itself?), but did serve to get me thinking about what kind of feminist I really am. Is the feminist party going to revoke my girl card because I took my husband’s name? Can I no longer use gender issues as a basis for deciding which candidate to vote for? Do I have to start dyeing my hair and wearing make-up now that I have joined the legions of deferential damsels anxiously awaiting their husband’s commands?
What it comes down to for me is that I like the feeling of belonging to each other. I like the fact that when we are introduced, there will be questioning that we are together. I grew up in a divided family, with step-parents and step-siblings and all kinds of name relation confusion. Even though I didn’t give birth to his children, we will still be building our own version of a family together. And one of the many things that we will share will be the name “Evans.” It’s like a badge that I can wear and say “These are my people.” I think the most powerful thing that any feminist can do is to throw away the preconceived notions of what a woman should or should not do, and decide for herself what is the right course of action.
“Do not send me away or urge me to turn back from you. Where you go, I will go. Where you lodge, I will lodge. Your people will be my people.” Ruth 1:16
She is a super-sweet farm mutt that we brought home from the Dover farm this weekend. She hasn't had the pleasure of meeting Harley yet, but will very soon. Mo has her first vet appointment this afternoon, so hopefully she'll get a clean bill of health!
