But it wasn’t just a name. It was my name, my identity, my achievements, my family’s legacy. Changing it felt like erasing everything I had worked for, everything I had built before I became somebody’s wife.
When I married Babatunde two years ago, I made it clear from the start: I wasn’t going to drop my surname. My career in marketing had taken nearly a decade to build. My email address, my certificates, and my LinkedIn all carried my father’s name.
“We’ll figure it out,” he said back then, brushing it off like a minor inconvenience.
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But after the wedding, the pressure began. His mother asked why I refused to be referred to as Mrs. Adeyemi. His sisters looked at me weirdly during family gatherings. And Tunde, who once said it didn’t matter, started changing too.
“Are you ashamed of me?” he asked one night. “Or do you want people to think you’re still single?”
I tried to explain that it wasn’t about shame; it was about my independence. I even suggested a hyphen to compromise. “That’s nonsense,” he barked. “You’re my wife. You bear my name.”
Now, two years later, our marriage is on the edge of a cliff because of a few letters. He says I’m disrespecting him, that I’m tearing the family apart, that a wife who refuses her husband’s name can’t respect his authority.
Last week, he packed a bag and moved out of our matrimonial home. His parting words still ring in my ears, “If you can’t be Mrs. Adeyemi, then maybe you shouldn’t be my wife at all.”
I’m torn.
Part of me wants to fight for my marriage, after all, I still love him. But another part of me is angry that something as personal as my name has become a tool for control. My friends say I should stand my ground, that if I give in now, I’ll keep giving in forever. My mother says, “Just change it. Is it worth losing your marriage?”
Some nights, I stare at my wedding ring and wonder if this is really about love, or if it’s about ownership? Should I bend to save us, or stay whole and watch him go?
Because in this marriage, it seems my name is the price of peace, and I’m not sure I’m willing to pay it.
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