Is it too late to turn this into a kinky sex thread? 
I’m another one who had a last name that lent itself to insults in grade school, and I happily changed names. Moved up in the alphabet, too.
My mother’s maiden name is German, difficult to pronounce and spell. She was excited to change it to my dad’s name, which is easy to pronounce but for some reason difficult to spell (people always assume it is more difficult than it is and stick in letters where they shouldn’t be - ‘Are you sure it’s not spelled this way?’). She found it was more difficult after she changed it, because in the case of the complicated-sounding maiden name, people always asked how to spell it, but in the easy name they assumed, incorrectly, how to spell it.
Myself, I have had the easy but difficult to spell one all my life, and I married a man with a long and difficult one. Hmph! So I kept my own (and now am often asked to spell both), partly because of all the usual feminist reasons, and also because my first name sounds kind of funny with his surname. But his name is native to his country, and when we go there I will be happy to use his (because people there probably will assume I’ve taken it), because it’s very pretty.
I didn’t change my name. My married name sounded really funny - something resembling ‘thingamajig’.
Changed from an English name to an Irish name because:
- higher up in the alphabet (M vs S)
- Shorter (6 letters vs 11!)
- easier to spell & pronounce (tho my maiden name shouldn’t have been as difficult as most people made it out to be!)
I use my married name. My maiden name, which is now my middle name, is a common yet frequently mangled German-Jewish name. My married name is a common boy’s name and is rarely mispronounced or misspelt.
My father, just before I got married, himself recommended changing my name, because of spelling and pronounsability issues.
Twiddle
I was single until I was 35, so I was very accustomed to my name. I changed it, reluctantly. My husband’s name is much more common and most people know how to spell it, although I do meet people who astonish me by not knowing how to spell a one-syllable, common American/English name that several Hollywood stars have had and is in the title of a TV show.
I don’t feel like my new name is really my name, and I jokingly refer to it as my “slave name.” But I know that if I’d kept my maiden name, I’d also have to suffer all the little nuisances from people who either can’t figure out or claim to be unable to figure out how married people can have different last names.
I changed my middle name to my maiden name, which makes me feel a lot better.
I’m changing my name. This isn’t because I feel it’s traditional, or because I have some sort of deep-seated resentment towards my family. It’s because my madien name (which I have right now, obviously), is a pain in the butt.
First of all, it’s not an uncommon name. However, it’s not a particularly common name–most people have met or heard of maybe two other people with this last name, maybe even three or four. Hence, people tend to ask me, “are you related to so-and-so,” even when “so-and-so” lives on the other side of the country. This would never happen with a “Smith” or a “Jones,” or even something more uncommon, but less distinctive.
Second of all, my last name is pronounced about four million different ways. This works out to about a million pronunciations for each letter contained in my last name. And, sad thing is, my family’s pronunciation of it isn’t the same as other families’ pronunciation of it. So, while some get it right straight off the bat, others can’t get it through their head that I pronounce it differently than “so-and-so” (who, incidentally, I’m not related to!). To top it all off, it’s a very common name in Hungary–and is pronounced COMPLETELY differently there.
Third of all…I just find my name completely forgettable and unappealing. It doesn’t fit with my first name at all, and it sounds simply dreadful with a Chicago/Great Lakes accent. Plus it puts me smack dab in the middle of the alphabet.
I like my SO/fiance(is that how you spell it?)'s last name way better. It’s more memorable personally, less memorable long-term, more common, sounds better with my first name and just in general, and everyone knows how to pronounce it. Needless to say, should things go according to plan, I’m going to borrow it :).
I like my married name way better. I went from a trainwreck of a name with hyphenated first and last names (Read: Firstname-secondfirstname Middlename Lastname-Lastname), and when I took his last name - which is long, Polish, and slighly unpronouncable, I wiped a majority of my name off the slate. Now I’m Firstname Secondfirstname (used as middle) Married name.
Sweeeeeeeet. I don’t mind spelling it out for every person who needs it, since I never again have to explain what drugs my parents were on for giving me five names. The only thing is that my nickname - that I’ve always gone by (Cassie), sounds pretty funny with my new name. I’ll deal.
I like my new married name, but it feels funny to hide under an assumed nationality. I had a Scottish name, but now I have an obviously Norwegian name. It sometimes feels funny to be publically somethingI’m not.
I purposely left my maiden name in as a silent third because otherwise I’d have the same name as hundreds of women in my state. As is, I think I’m unique.
I have alway envied people with long polish names.
Oh, to be a Kuligowski or Manechewicz. or even a Ryzchyck. No normal vowels, just call me Eye Chart.
Pure Bliss.
Even the long, seemingly unpronouncable Italian names with their silent C’s complete with obscene hand gestures involved made me want to be a Spumoni or Arreverderci.
No, really.
Or someone with a trainwreck of a name with hypens, semifors and sky writing involved.
I envied the kids who had the smug waspy names, the Elizabeth Catherine Thurston-Howell-Rockefellers and Christopher Lowell Huntingdon-Parkinson-Falwell III. I hated them with a fierceness because their parents picked out pretty names, whilst I was handed the station wagon of a name: Joan. Don’t see much o’ the country squires out n about anymore, d’ya. Same with Joan.
I desired to take up more than the alotted squares provided for the SAT tests. The guy next to me, a Delamieurre ( sp) always ran over. I could have sold him my extra spots.
I have a two syllable name.
Always have.
My Former name ( I hate the archaic phrase ‘maiden’. I feel like I was sacrificed or something.) was the butt of jokes my entire elementary and high school time. Even teachers teased me, though not as often. It helped me develope my sense of humor and timing. I also stabbed alot of mental voodoo dolls during this charming phase known as *adolescence *.
But my maiden name means something more than these mouth breathers ever guessed. One syllable. Three letters. Latin for God. * Dei. * I’ve always fancied myself as the recipient of the name for a *reason *. If only the super powers would kick in because the gift of ‘gaydar’, ‘BS Meter’ and ‘sarcasm’ just ain’t panning out as really useful.
After Marrying a one syllablelast name man - Arndt. As in *Isn’t *. The jokes I have with this name are priceless and retarded. Arndt Home. Arndt Working. Arndt Cooking. Arndt Baking. Arndt Cleaning. If you Arndt Getting It Then You Arndt Thinking…the knee slapping potential is endless. So is the grimacing.
I could not hypenate the names. It would have been awkward. Dei-Arndt. Talk about a speed bump. *Joan Dei-Arndt. *
So’s, I have a talk with Mr. Wonderful before we marry ( before I realize the Atom Pun capacity of Arndt.) *Couldn’t we just combine our names…Dei - Arndt to …D…arn…Darn. Even throwing in a little ’ to make it look smarmy. D’Arn. Just think of the fun! That D’Arn family. Those D’arn Kids. Another D’Arn Christmas Card."
Mr. Wonderful pooh-poohed the idea.
He ain’t called the Prime Minister of the Anti-Fun Brigade fer nothing.
So’s I give our daugher a middle name that is my grandmother’s maiden name. A McHappy. McEasy. McIrish name to spell. The Yellow Labs of names. O’Hara. As in Head Cop of Gotham. So she can drop the Arndt and get on with life.
Our son, well, someone has to carry this burden in life and we ain’t talking about his daddy’s stock size or mama’s high chloesteral, but the hassle of a one syllable name.
I’m making the best of lemon rinds, as I like to say, but if Mr. Wonderful drops dead before me, I’ve given him fair warning, I’m changing my last name.
To what?
Dunno.
But the top contenders are: Heythaler, Honeyjager and Mainprize.
My list grows daily.
I too had an original name that was easily turned into an insult at primary school, and we were the only family who had the name in the small town I grew up in. So I happily changed to my married name.
However, I have recently returned to my original name, having realised over the years there are plenty of others, including lots of famous people with the same name.
Seemed pointless to continue to use the name of a man I haven’t been married to for years. Besides, I have just completed a degree and I want it to be in MY name, not someone else’s.
My mother’s maiden name was Hickey. She gladly changed it to Murray when she married my father - I won’t bother explaining why 
Myself, I love being a Murray - my husband is a Muntz. (Muhn-tsss. Cuz I know you’re wondering how to say it.) I have been told I can rename myself as a Murray Muntz and use both last names - which I think is what we’ll do when we get the marriage license I won’t have to change my cc that way! And I do want to have the same name as our children will.
I never wanted to change my name. I even used to think poorly of my friends who did.
Then I got married and somehow, it just seemed right to me to take my husband’s name. Go figure.
I kept my maiden name when I married.
My surname was the butt of many jokes in school and rhymes with some not-so-nice words. However, I’m not in high school anymore.
My husband’s surname is a ‘normal’ Dutch surname, that constantly has to be spelled out for people.
I didn’t take my actual surname or my husband’s actual surname into account when deciding the whole last-name thing.
Brynda, that makes me feel better. I’m getting married this spring, and I’m trying to decide what to do about my name. I’d always disliked the idea of changing my name, but now that it’s actual rather than theoretical, I find myself liking the idea. I want my husband, my kids, and I to all have the same last name. Does that make me hopelessly retrograde and a bad feminist?
I like my married name.
My married name is unusual and quite ethnic.
Sure, it’s 12 letters, Italian, and most people can’t pronounce it, but it’s great for weeding out telemarketers.
When someone calls and starts in with, “Hi, Mrs. Del…Deg… Degla…,” I can honestly say, “There’s no one here by that name,” and hang up.
My maiden name was very common, Scottish, and easy to pronounce (think soup). It was run-of-the-mill and boring.
I like my out-of-the-ordinary long Italian married name.
It’s cool. People remember it.
No one can spell or pronounce my married name. It’s not a big change for me. No one could spell/pronounce my maiden name, either, as simple as it was. Both my married name and my maiden name are two-syllable, sounds-like-it’s-spelled and vice-versa names, but for some reason, people always want to change a short “I” to a long one, or an “ee” sound. I guess “Hooked on Phonics” didn’t work for them.
No, it makes you someone who has examined your available choices and made a choice that suits you.
AFAIK, that’s what feminism is all about. Choices.
I never wanted to change my name. My last name is unusual and a little silly, so it suits me well. It also served well to distinguish me from the myriads of other girls my age with my first name. Every class, every year…there was “carlotta” h, “carlotta” p, “carlotta” m etc. etc. By high school most people addressed me by first and last name together. My last name was an integral part of my identity.
So when I married, it really didn’t even occur to me to change my name.
Until…
My brother went and married a lovely girl who just happened to have the same first AND MIDDLE name as me. And she changed her name, thus duplicating my name. ARG. It’s made things quite confusing as they live in the same town and go to the same church.
So I’m in the process of changing to my married name, which is much less interesting, but easy to pronounce and spell, and actually reflects my ethnic heritage much better than my husband’s