Changing names
First Names
If our matching system inspires you to trade in your old klunker of a name for a mellifluous new model, you'll be glad to hear that it's easier than ever. Legally changing your name used to mean tons of paperwork and hours of waiting on line, but no more.
"It was so simple that I really wish I had done it 10 years ago—that would have been 10 fewer years of kvetching!" says Ricki Klos, who has gone by her tomboy nickname for two decades. Fed up with signing her birth name, Kelly Reagan, on official documents, she finally called the courthouse in her hometown, found the forms online, filled out three or four pages, and sent them to the court. She had to appear before a judge, but she got to choose the day and time. And she didn't need a lawyer, though one was present for people who represent themselves. Her cost, in Texas, was $181, but the fees and procedures vary by state.
"The judge looked over the paperwork for about a minute, asked me a couple of questions—so basic I forget," Ricki recalls, "and then I walked out with my new name."
Of course, the decision to change her name in the first place was a bit more taxing. "I was really concerned it would hurt my mom's feelings," says Ricki. "But I've been a Ricki longer than I've been a Kelly now." Still, she kept Kelly as her middle name as a tribute to her mom, who didn't put up a fight—she even helped Ricki run errands to change her name with all the legal organizations in town. But even after the official name change, her family still calls her Kelly. "My dad still thinks it's a stage I'm going through, and he's been saying that for 20 years."
Not surprisingly, Ricki and her husband Ethan agonized over what to name her own children. Though they picked somewhat unconventional first names—Sadie and Bixby—they opted for more serious-sounding middle names—Parker and Eli—which their kids can use instead someday. Though Ricki loves the names they chose, she wonders what her kids, especially her son, will think. As she jokes: "We've talked about putting aside a fund for Bixby to change his name when he decides he hates it."
Last Names
When a woman gets married and takes her husband's last name, she simply checks a box on the marriage certificate, starts signing her new name, and no one really questions it. But if a man wants to take his wife's surname instead—as Martin Wolf and John West did—that can be a different story.
"People just give him hassle and ask for a bunch of redundant paperwork," says Amy West about her husband John, who changed his name from French to West when they had their first child. "It's discrimination because it's a man doing it. It's not the process they would have gone through if it was a woman."
Actually, making the switch is easy enough for either gender—you can find the forms online on the Social Security Administration's Web site (go to "Questions" and click "How do I change my name on my Social Security card?"). Then just download the forms and mail them in along with two pieces of identification; say, your driver's license with your old name on it and your marriage certificate with your new name on it. You'll get a new Social Security card within a few weeks and you can use that, along with your marriage certificate, to change your name on your driver's license, passport, and all your other identity cards.
"Strangely enough, the more trivial the card I was changing, the more documentation they wanted," says Martin Wolf, who changed his name from Bogner when he married Hannah Wolf because they weren't gung-ho about hyphenating. "For the gas bill, it was just a marriage certificate, but for the video rental card, they wanted a marriage certificate and something else."
Things were a bit more complicated for John, who waited until Amy was pregnant to change his name to West, so their marriage certificate and the title to their first house still said French. When they bought a new house, the bank was leery. "They said, 'Wait, your Social Security card says one thing and your passport says another—you could be a different person'," Amy recalls. "We had to go get a letter from Social Security and a copy of our wedding certificate. We said, 'Just think of it like when a woman changes her name,' but no. The first year was hard until we got all his paperwork changed over."
At first, John's family felt like he was disowning them, even though he has four brothers to continue French line. Occasionally, he still gets attitude from Archie Bunker types who ask "What kind of man are you?" "I mean, what difference does it make whether it's the man or the woman who changes their name?" Amy scoffs.
Martin Wolf's family took it much better. "In terms of this branch of the family, the name ends here," says Martin, whose Austrian-Hungarian surname Bogner (BOHG-nur) was always mispronounced as BAWG-nur anyway. "But I talked to my father and grandfather about it and they're both easy about giving up traditional male roles. It was a real short discussion both times."
If our matching system inspires you to trade in your old klunker of a name for a mellifluous new model, you'll be glad to hear that it's easier than ever. Legally changing your name used to mean tons of paperwork and hours of waiting on line, but no more.
"It was so simple that I really wish I had done it 10 years ago—that would have been 10 fewer years of kvetching!" says Ricki Klos, who has gone by her tomboy nickname for two decades. Fed up with signing her birth name, Kelly Reagan, on official documents, she finally called the courthouse in her hometown, found the forms online, filled out three or four pages, and sent them to the court. She had to appear before a judge, but she got to choose the day and time. And she didn't need a lawyer, though one was present for people who represent themselves. Her cost, in Texas, was $181, but the fees and procedures vary by state.
"The judge looked over the paperwork for about a minute, asked me a couple of questions—so basic I forget," Ricki recalls, "and then I walked out with my new name."
Of course, the decision to change her name in the first place was a bit more taxing. "I was really concerned it would hurt my mom's feelings," says Ricki. "But I've been a Ricki longer than I've been a Kelly now." Still, she kept Kelly as her middle name as a tribute to her mom, who didn't put up a fight—she even helped Ricki run errands to change her name with all the legal organizations in town. But even after the official name change, her family still calls her Kelly. "My dad still thinks it's a stage I'm going through, and he's been saying that for 20 years."
Not surprisingly, Ricki and her husband Ethan agonized over what to name her own children. Though they picked somewhat unconventional first names—Sadie and Bixby—they opted for more serious-sounding middle names—Parker and Eli—which their kids can use instead someday. Though Ricki loves the names they chose, she wonders what her kids, especially her son, will think. As she jokes: "We've talked about putting aside a fund for Bixby to change his name when he decides he hates it."
Last Names
When a woman gets married and takes her husband's last name, she simply checks a box on the marriage certificate, starts signing her new name, and no one really questions it. But if a man wants to take his wife's surname instead—as Martin Wolf and John West did—that can be a different story.
"People just give him hassle and ask for a bunch of redundant paperwork," says Amy West about her husband John, who changed his name from French to West when they had their first child. "It's discrimination because it's a man doing it. It's not the process they would have gone through if it was a woman."
Actually, making the switch is easy enough for either gender—you can find the forms online on the Social Security Administration's Web site (go to "Questions" and click "How do I change my name on my Social Security card?"). Then just download the forms and mail them in along with two pieces of identification; say, your driver's license with your old name on it and your marriage certificate with your new name on it. You'll get a new Social Security card within a few weeks and you can use that, along with your marriage certificate, to change your name on your driver's license, passport, and all your other identity cards.
"Strangely enough, the more trivial the card I was changing, the more documentation they wanted," says Martin Wolf, who changed his name from Bogner when he married Hannah Wolf because they weren't gung-ho about hyphenating. "For the gas bill, it was just a marriage certificate, but for the video rental card, they wanted a marriage certificate and something else."
Things were a bit more complicated for John, who waited until Amy was pregnant to change his name to West, so their marriage certificate and the title to their first house still said French. When they bought a new house, the bank was leery. "They said, 'Wait, your Social Security card says one thing and your passport says another—you could be a different person'," Amy recalls. "We had to go get a letter from Social Security and a copy of our wedding certificate. We said, 'Just think of it like when a woman changes her name,' but no. The first year was hard until we got all his paperwork changed over."
At first, John's family felt like he was disowning them, even though he has four brothers to continue French line. Occasionally, he still gets attitude from Archie Bunker types who ask "What kind of man are you?" "I mean, what difference does it make whether it's the man or the woman who changes their name?" Amy scoffs.
Martin Wolf's family took it much better. "In terms of this branch of the family, the name ends here," says Martin, whose Austrian-Hungarian surname Bogner (BOHG-nur) was always mispronounced as BAWG-nur anyway. "But I talked to my father and grandfather about it and they're both easy about giving up traditional male roles. It was a real short discussion both times."
