i won’t be taking my husband’s last name
A name is never just a name. It is lineage, it is legacy, it is prayer. For me, taking someone else’s last name has never felt like the path to belonging, because I already belong to myself. My name is not up for negotiation. Whether I marry or not, I won’t be trading it at the altar. This isn’t anti-marriage, it’s pro-sovereignty. The title may sound like a declaration, and it is. My name will remain a reflection of my own.
As many may be aware, the history of a surname equates to being a man’s property or being part of a man’s family. The identity of women was typically absorbed by the man who was a part of their DNA structure or the man they chose to join with legally, symbolizing the transfer of authority from one man to another. In many cases, the historical context has evolved; however, the tradition remains. It is tradition for a woman to take her husband’s last name. And let’s just say, I’m not all that traditional. Growing up, I didn’t know this was an option. I saw women trade their names like property deeds, as if legitimacy came through erasure. I thought it was just “what you do.” I never questioned it until I began questioning things little by little. Until I realized how much of my life had been shaped by narratives I didn’t consciously choose, but were clearly programmed by. This is a position women of the past did not have the opportunity to do, and what better way to use the privilege I have now than to separate from patriarchal ways of existing in the world?
As I said, a name is never a name. Names carry power. They are a container for our stories, our values, and our self-concept. The name we are born with reflects ancestral agreements, and the names we reclaim or choose to align with reflect soul activation. They travel with us into every room we enter. They are the first thing others know about us, and often the last thing they remember. For centuries, women have been asked and expected to surrender that first marker of identity upon marriage—even with entering a family as a baby. Sometimes willingly, reluctantly, without even realizing the depth of the trade would impact their psychological, emotional, mental, and spiritual well-being.
So my name reflects the sovereignty I walk in. The day I filed for my name change was the day I chose myself on paper, a quiet but powerful act of reclamation. My identity has always been mine, but now it no longer belongs to my father or any hypothetical husband. It didn’t sit right with me that a man’s name was on everything I’ve accomplished. This choice is my symbolic break from generational control, my way of honoring every woman who never had the chance to name herself.
My new name is not just a pen name or artist name, it is a declaration of who I’ve become and who I am becoming. My sovereignty is not something I would hand over at the altar; it is something I would bring with me into the union. If I marry, I will arrive as Janelle Wisdom: whole, sovereign, and already home within myself. To me, that is the truest reflection of love: two whole people, not completing each other, but complementing each other—each carrying their own name, purpose, and destiny, side by side.
This is for me and every woman who never got her own name. ♡
