When it comes to names, I have it kind of tough. A name like Anjali Nair doesn’t exactly roll… When it comes to names, I have it kind of tough. A name like Anjali Nair doesn’t exactly roll off the tongue. For anyone who doesn’t know, my name is pronounced like this: Onjalee Nyear.

My first name has been pronounced in virtually every variation of Angela possible; once a man even managed to put a Swedish accent on it, referring to me as Onyali. It’s been a little better with my last name, although most people assume it’s pronounced like the Nair hair remover. I can’t tell you how many times people have asked me if I wear short shorts, since, you know, Nair is for short shorts.

Having an unusual, foreign-sounding name can be frustrating – so frustrating that when I was 10, I was convinced that I was going to change my name to Heather when I turned 18. Once I matured, I came to accept and actually like my name: it’s unique, it’s the one my parents gave me, and, most importantly, it’s mine.

When I get married, the thought of changing my last name makes me a little uneasy. Of my male peers that I’ve talked to about this, most of them said they would be insulted if their wife didn’t change her last name. When I asked them why it would bother them so much, they gave a smug response like, “because it’s tradition” or “because that’s the way it’s always been.”

There’s a total difference between a man who wishes his wife would change her last name so they could share a last name, and a man who simply expects his wife to change her name. A woman is an independent person who can make up her own mind about such matters and shouldn’t have to deal with being pressured by a man who supposedly loves her through thick and thin.

In our society, women who keep their own names are often characterized as overbearing feminists, but really, what’s wrong with wanting to keep the name you’ve grown up with and the name everyone knows you by? If you asked your husband if he’d be willing to change his last name for you, chances are he’d look at you like you were crazy.

This issue is of a particular significance for women with careers. Women with established careers and many clients may be hesitant to change their names, and if they’re truly concerned that it may have a negative effect on their career, they shouldn’t. When Jennifer Aniston married Brad Pitt nobody expected her to be referred to as Jennifer Pitt, did they?

The biggest strike I have against name changing is if I married someone named Bob Smith, some invitations we receive as a couple may be addressed to “Mr. and Mrs. Bob Smith.” It’s one thing to be Anjali Smith or Mrs. Smith; it’s a whole other thing to be Mrs. Bob Smith. This is personally insulting to me as a woman, because it makes me feel like I’m nothing more than Bob Smith’s wife.

Marriage is about so much more than sharing a last name. Above all else it should be about trust, commitment, loyalty and love, and it is possible to have all of those components and more even if a woman chooses to keep her last name.

Being a young college student, I have no idea what I’m going to attempt to make myself for dinner tonight, let alone make definitive claims about what I will or won’t do when I’m married. I can acknowledge the fact that when the time comes, I may change my mind and decide to take my husband’s last name.

What I do know is that it will be my decision alone. I don’t look down on any woman who changes her last name. There’s nothing wrong with it, but it is a choice that every woman must make for herself, and for the right reasons.

Whatever choice I make, I expect my husband to respect it, and I will tolerate nothing less. The man that I marry better love me enough to accept it, or he’s certainly not a man worth marrying in the first place.

I know a rose by any other name still smells as sweet and all that stuff, but right now I just can’t imagine being anyone other than Anjali Nair. But like I said, my mind may change, which might not be so terrible. After all, Anjali Smith is easier to pronounce, not to mention people will finally stop asking me if I’m an heiress to the Nair hair-removal fortune.

E-mail Anjali at [email protected].