MY SECOND HUSBAND TOOK MY MAIDEN NAME

I HAve been married for 18 years, yet I never took my husband’s surname. This raises eyebrows. Then, when I reveal that on our third wedding anniversary my husband Jim presented me with a deed poll document that said he had changed his surname to mine, people often react with apoplectic shock and horror.

It’s a daily occurrence that women change their names, but a man relinquishing his family name to take his wife’s is still considered peculiar. I thought Jim’s decision was an impressive and powerful move, but we find even now we regularly have to explain why.

He didn’t have a weird surname that I was avoiding. When I met him, he was Jim Pride, which I thought was truly awesome. My surname, Parks, isn’t especially emotive, but it is easy to spell and crucially it’s mine.

I met Jim when my son had just turned one and I was divorcing. I never took my first husband’s name — we had briefly played with double-barrelling, but it hadn’t stuck and the moment we separated I reverted to Adele Parks.

A couple of years later, Jim and I eloped to vegas. Immediately afterwards people started to refer to us as Mr and Mrs Pride. But it felt strange to me.

Adele Pride sounded lovely but not absolutely real, perhaps a little remote. I was 35 when I married Jim, maybe a little old for reinvention. Importantly, I realised that if I changed my name, my son Conrad would have to change his, too.

so we remained Jim Pride, Adele Parks and Conrad Parks for a few years. I can’t pretend I was 100 per cent comfortable with that. I felt we lacked something ethereal and indefinable as a family unit.

I felt the appeal of having a team name. We considered doublebarrelling. But both Pride-Parks or Parks-Pride sounded a little try-too-hard.

Then Jim suggested changing his name; as two of the three of us were already Parks, it was the democratic thing to do.

strangely, I felt some level of regret. I fell in love with the heroic Jim Pride; I didn’t want to lose any aspect of him. Would Mr Parks for ever remind me of my dad and granddad? I associate my dad with childhood, rules and dependence; Jim is all about maturity, freedom and independence.

I wondered whether others would judge us — I didn’t want Jim to get unnecessary flak. However, Jim doesn’t care what others think, so he went ahead and changed it.

I’ve noticed that when I tell other women our story, they are often impressed. They look at Jim with admiration, whereas many men look horrified. I see them mentally cross their legs, convinced I’m the sort of woman that secretly dreams of castration.

I’m really not; I am the sort of woman who not-so-secretly dreams of equality.