I can’t believe I haven’t written about this yet, but I’ve finally gotten around to name-changing process. By the time our two-monthaversary rolled around in August, I was ready to do it. I’d be lying if I denied that at least part of my motivation was wanting to get the name straightened out at the bank so I could add the Modern Love Machine to my checking account. After a year and two and a half months of living off the same budget, I was sick of us having separate bank accounts. (And don’t tell me we’re crazy for merging accounts — my parents have operated out of the same bank account whilst being married for 31 years.) But mostly I was ready to acknowledge that my married name is actually my name.

Y’all, changing one’s name is a completely outdated concept, and that statement is only partially related to feminism. I think it’s completely valid for a couple who’s chosen to spend the rest of their lives together to also choose to have the same last name. It’s the No. 1 reason I said ‘OK’ when the MLM said it was important to him for us to have the same last name. I like how it implies we’re a unit to the world. Of course, I don’t think it should always be the case of the woman taking the husband’s last name, it should just be a case of whatever works best for the couple.

But here’s why it’s outdated: When my grandmothers got married more than a half century ago, they probably had to change their name with the fairly new Social Security Administration and maybe a bank account.** I doubt either one had a driver’s license (though I may be wrong), and I know they didn’t have credit cards, HR departments located five states away, mortgages, cable companies, insurance policies or encounters with the TSA. Changing their name was more of just saying they were taking their husband’s last name, or rather, everyone just assuming that was the case.

I started working on changing my name at 9 a.m. last Friday and didn’t quit until 5 p.m., and by then I was still only halfway through navigating the process. By 5 p.m. I had a new driver’s license and had phoned three credit card companies, my company’s HR department, the utility company, AT&T, Comcast, my insurance agent and my mortgage company. I’d filled out paperwork for a new passport and visited the Social Security Administration and the bank. The credit card calls and visit to the SSA resulted in promises I’d receive new cards with my new name, the mortgage company told me I owed them a crap-ton paperwork before they’d adjust the name on the mortgage and I had to sign my new name about 20 times before the bank would let me leave. The passport has to go in the mail, but fortunately I get a new one of those for free, and I totally and completely forgot to get my car title updated, even though I could have done that in the exact same room where I got my new driver’s license.

The efforts of the feminists before me made it both possible and socially acceptable for modern gals to have the kind of lifestyle that involves multiple credit cards, a mortgage, a cell phone, the insurance to cover it all and the money to pay for it. Feminism permits us to keep our maiden names, if we so choose. But it’s done nothing to streamline the process of changing one’s name if you choose otherwise.

I say this while holding my nose, because I absolutely abhor making statements like this, BUT: you know if it was common for men to change their last names, they would have figured out an easier way to do it by now.

**Editor’s note: If your grandmothers are still living, I’d love for you to ask them what the name-change process was like back in their day and report back here. Both of my grandmothers have long since passed, and I would love so much to ask them about it myself. I tried to do a little research on the history of changing one’s name after marriage on the Google, but came up with very little.