When I married husband Tim Orr in Columbus in August, the next thing to do was for me, a native of Ecuador, to start the process of becoming a resident of this country. Data and documents were flowing from us to our lawyer, and soon, I faced the question:
“How do you want your last name to be registered? Remember, once you decide, it’s not easy to change it.”
I had been excited to become an Orr. It meant ultimate last name minimalism with only three letters and a unique name with fewer chances of being tagged on Facebook in places I’d never been with people I’ve never met. All that in addition to being the very same last name of the man I married. What else could I ask?
Tim, on the other hand, had suggested that I become Monica Salazar-Orr. I was not so excited about that one, as I imagined myself on the phone spelling from the S to the R and being asked to do it all over again. I didn’t see this as a big deal anyway, and I thought I’d give myself up to a life of a long, multicultural last name.
However, when my lawyer explained to me that if I decided to change my last name in any way, it would differ from the one registered in my country, the decision became straightforward and obvious.
I recalled that when I lived in Brazil, I was required to formally verify my identity, because my mother’s name didn’t show up precisely the same way in two documents, and I was very aware that a slight change on names could complicate paperwork. We were still working on international paperwork, and there was no room for confusion.
So, I went full circle and ended up keeping my maiden name, as it’s common practice in Ecuador.
Notwithstanding, I still want to think of myself as an Orr because it’s in alignment with the purpose of our Christian marriage. Here the reasons why changing to my husband’s last name made so much sense to me — even though, for legal purposes, I chose to remain a Salazar:
Although I’m proud of my family and my culture, I chose to become one with my husband and wanted to take his name. It didn’t mean I would lose connection to my family or my culture, but that the whole me is submitted to the leadership of the man who committed himself before God to take that big responsibility.
When husband and wife have the same name, I think it’s easier to see them as a “unity,” instead of as a group of two isolated people. Perception is important, and those who are perceived as a unity might end up being more likely to work as a unity.
But why the husband’s last name and not the wife’s? I’d say because I’d instead put on him the responsibility to earn a good name for our family. See, if he earns a good name for the Orrs, I’d be under his umbrella and benefit from that.
If I earn a bad name for the Orrs, he’d be very compelled to help me get out of trouble to protect his name. Now, what if he earns a bad name? That’s also in the realm of possibilities, but I believe men are more likely to care about what they do when they are representing their name.
I feel it’s biblical. Genealogies talk about the male heads of the family, naming women only when needed to make a point. Most men mentioned are not known for being exceptionally good people, and I imagine their wives were not exceptionally good either, but their reputation is protected under the husband’s name.
After being a single mother for 15 years, I know what it is like to be expected to perform as the leader and the provider of the family. Early in my journey, I recognized that those were not my roles, and I prayed to God that I’d someday be the mother.
Although some believed I was the “mother and father,” I was only doing my best to be a good mother, while making a conscious effort to let God provide me with the rest. God has been so faithful.
In fact, neither the surname Salazar nor Orr represent my eternal identity or family. When I decided to stop trying to be good in my own strength and asked Jesus to save me from my sin and become my Lord, I also became a member of God’s family.
That is where my primary identity lies. This means that I live under God’s umbrella of protection, but still in a fallen world. God gave another umbrella to my husband, and he has the job to hold it for me. Why would I take the umbrella in my own hands when it’s not intended for my use?
After years of praying, I finally came across Tim, the man willing to found a stable family union with me, to take the responsibility of leadership, to be the one who says the last word with all its implications, and to welcome my culture and family under his umbrella of love and care.
Most important, Tim was willing to make this commitment before God, and to carry it out under God’s direction.
Of course, I said “yes,” and that made me an Orr, even if, for practical reasons, my documents don’t say so. Though my legal name is Monica Salazar, you’re welcome to call me Monica Salazar-Orr.
That’s what I go by in public. By adding Orr to my identity, I can still be called by my preferred last name.
Columbus resident Monica Salazar, a native of Ecuador, has lived as a foreigner in Brazil and Japan, and has traveled extensively around South America. She writes at her husband’s blog at TimOrr.net/monica.
