Totally Addicted to Flake

Does Marriage Mean Losing Your Identity?

I was blessed with the unique yet jibe-attracting surname, Flake. From an early age I was taunted with the likes of “Do you want a flake with that?” and coupled with the fact that my first name is Charlie, was often called ‘Charlie and the Chocolate Factory.” Of course, my ‘puppy fat,’ as my mum would call it, didn’t help one bit. “Did you eat yourself?” people would say.

My father’s only child and with no cousins to help me bear the burden, I began to embrace my surname. Even when I moved to Poole from Gosport at the age of 11 with my mum, her husband and two sisters, I shunned the chance to take on the very average name of Stephens (the ‘ph’ spelling made no difference), making a rebellious stand to save my individuality.

At the age of 16, I bore the nickname ‘Flakey’ on my t-shirt for my first ever girls’ holiday and enjoyed using the phrase “Flake like the chocolate” when spelling my name out on the phone. I had become so attached to my surname and so protective of it that I didn’t even think about what getting married would mean for poor old Flake.

When Darren, now my husband, proposed on New Year’s Eve 2010, it never occurred to me that I might have to give up my surname. It’s not as if I didn’t know that taking the man’s name was expected, (I’m not that stupid), it’s just that it hadn’t even crossed my mind, so much so, that when it came to the actual wedding day, I still hadn’t decided or even practiced a signature in my new surname ‘Joyce’.

It’s not that I was taking a feminist stance and protesting women’s equal rights, it was simply that I liked my surname and hyphenating Joyce and Flake sounds ridiculous. Darren didn’t pressure me at all and while I could tell that he would be slightly offended if I didn’t take it, he didn’t demand that I become a Joyce.

After the honeymoon, I took the plunge and changed my name formally with all my banks, insurance companies and card providers but decided to stay Flake at work and on Facebook. I couldn’t believe the backlash I received! After all, I joined Facebook to stay in touch with people from my childhood and believe it or not, I was not married at 8! If people are going to search for me, they are going to look for Charlie Flake not Charlie Joyce was Flake. What’s the big deal?

While I don’t agree with women that refuse to change their name simply because they are making a point, I do think we should be able to make compromises. I feel I have earned my surname and won’t let go completely - it is part of my identity!

PS: I’m quietly worrying about the fact that Flake won’t be carried on through my children, so I am devising a plan to boycott their birth certificates when they are born but sshh! Darren has no idea!