What's In a Married Name?

I had to renew my passport recently for an upcoming trip to Europe. I still use my married name on that document because I share it with my daughter. It makes traveling together a lot easier even though, since my divorce, it's no longer my legal last name.

My driver’s license, meanwhile, carries my maiden name, which is my professional name and the one I would have retained all along had I not married a British citizen. We needed to use every means necessary to prove to immigration authorities that we were a legitimately married couple and not just trying to score a green card.

It didn't help our case that we were married at Manhattan City Hall. Elopement was very romantic and cost-effective, but we also needed to beat the expiration of his traveling visa, so it looked bad.

Remember the machinations in the movie Green Card, where Andie MacDowell enters a marriage of convenience with Gerard Depardieu so she can get a greenhouse apartment in a building open only to married couples? You really do have to document that stuff; our attorney saw my name change as part of the package.

“I don’t care what you call yourself. You’re changing your name,” he told me. With my marital fate subject to the whims of bureaucrats, I wasn’t going to argue. Ultimately we passed muster, and stayed married for another 15 years.

Any woman who gets married faces a smiliar decision. My advice: If you have a professional brand built on your name, keep it. Don’t switch. If you’re going to switch, go all the way. Don’t hold onto any legacy maiden nametags for old times’ sake.

I didn’t, and as a result, to this day I have at least six different names, name combinations or misspellings attached to my financial, medical and frequent flying identity.

I recently visited the OB/GYN who delivered my baby and it took us ten minutes to figure out who I was. It turned out I was filed under the English-style reverse-hyphenated Wardell-Petersen (my married name first and my maiden name second).  

My gas and electric and Cablevision (CVC) bills remain in my married name, which makes it easier to sign my daughter up for local rec sports that require a current bill to prove local residence.

Same thing with my cell phone, because changing anything involving a cell phone always seems to set off a flurry of unintended consequences. When my married name pops up on Caller ID it confuses anyone who’s only known me single.

My insurance is all in my maiden name, which goes along with my driver’s license, car registration and AAA account.

My real estate is in my maiden name, but the spelling came out wrong: "Peterson" after my divorce reverted me to a legal "Petersen." Close enough for me.

My 401(k)s and IRAs are a hodgepodge of Wardell, Petersen, Wardell-Petersen, Petersen-Wardell and a Peterson or Wordell thrown in for good measure. I learned what a headache this is when I last elected to roll over a 401(k) from an old job into an IRA with a different name.

I had to file paperwork and my divorce decree with Fidelity to change my account name before the rollover could take place. Still on the list to deal with are my accounts living at T. Rowe Price (TROW), Charles Schwab (SCHW) and JPMorgan Chase (JPM).

I rest my case.

What have your experiences been with name changes? Weigh in on The Exchange.