I Am Not A Man’s Name—And I Never Will Be.

Dear Younger Me,

One day, you will realize that your name was never yours to keep.

You will grow up carrying your father’s name, not because you chose it, but because that’s just how it is. And one day, if you get married, they will expect you to swap it out like a used dress—erase the identity you’ve had for over two decades, as if it was just a placeholder for the real thing: your husband’s name.

And somehow, nobody will question it.

Not your family, not your friends, not even the women around you. In fact, some will rush to change their name the minute they get married, calling it a “sign of respect.”

Respect?

Let me get this straight. You leave your home, move into his, adjust to his family, take on his traditions, change your entire legal identity to match his, and somehow, this is about your respect for him?

I have a better question: Where is his respect for you?

Because if your husband’s sense of loyalty and love depends on you erasing your own name, then he doesn’t want a wife—he wants a possession. And if you, as a woman, think this is just how things should be, then congratulations, the patriarchy has done its job.

And let’s talk about how deeply ingrained this is.

In Indian culture, there’s an entire ceremony called "Kanyadaan"—literally translating to “donating a girl.” A father gives away his daughter to the husband, as if she is something to be transferred, gifted, owned.

She is not his to give. And she sure as hell isn’t her husband’s to keep.

But this is the problem—women are never seen as fully independent identities. They are first a daughter under their father, then a wife under their husband. A subset of a man, never her own person.

And the saddest part? Most women don’t even fight it.

Even today’s so-called modern generation is willingly signing away their names as soon as the wedding ends. And for what? So their husband feels like they belong to him? Why does your identity have to shrink for a man’s ego to stay intact?

Your name is not just a name—it is your history, your legacy, your identity. And no marriage, no husband, no outdated tradition should have the power to take that away from you.

So, younger me, when the time comes and they tell you, “It’s just tradition,” you tell them:

"So is oppression. Doesn’t mean I have to accept it."

Your name is yours. Keep it.