At birth, women inherit their father’s family name, and at marriage, women take on their husbands family name. Women don’t have their own lineage name.
MELANIE SWAN
*this does not apply to ALL women!
Before you listen — you might feel defensive. You might feel inspired. You might feel triggered. You might feel blamed. Sit with that. My intention is to highlight something in our culture that is so normalised, we’ve stopped questioning it entirely.
The Programme Running Beneath the Surface
At birth, women inherit their father’s family name — as do the boys. At marriage, women give up their father’s family name and take on their husband’s family name. So basically, women don’t have their own name. There is no female lineage in the form of names. And as women, we then pass this conditioning on to our own children.
A note before we go further: this does not apply to all women. Some women keep their own name at marriage but don’t pass it to their children. Some do both. This is about the dominant system — the one most of us have never stopped to question.
Not So Long Ago
Women didn’t have their own bank accounts. Women couldn’t own their own home. Women couldn’t own land. Women couldn’t vote. Women couldn’t do certain jobs by law. Women got married, went to live with their husband’s family, took their husband’s family name, and gave their children their husband’s family name.
And Now
Women have their own bank accounts. Women own their own homes. Women own land. Women can vote. Women can do any job.
Women get married and take their husband’s name and give their children their husband’s family name.
Is that last one out of date? In 2020 — is this norm still relevant? What effect is it having on the empowerment, or not, of women?
What We’re Saying With This Pattern
For me, what we’re saying is that the male lineage has more weight, is more important, is more dominant. It’s like the ownership of girls and women is being passed from one man to another. It doesn’t feel right.
I know there might be energetic reasons, historic reasons for this pattern. But in our modern times, I really question why this is still going on. We can still be in partnership. We can still have our own name. We can still give our children both names.
What message does this give our daughters in particular? That we take on our father’s name, and then give that up and take on our husband’s name.
And what are we saying to our sons?
The Alternative
In Spain, the general norm is that children carry both parents’ surnames. I wonder why that hasn’t shifted in America, England, Europe, Australia, New Zealand. Why is this still going on?
I think it’s one of those things we switch off to and just accept.
Someone I spoke to a while ago didn’t even want to bring the subject up with her potential husband — she was worried he might be offended. And I wonder how many women out there are thinking: he might not like it if I don’t take his name.
If we were going to have a double-barrelled name, both partners would carry that — it wouldn’t just be the woman taking the man’s name while he changes nothing. To me, having both names would give children the message that mum and dad are of equal importance. That male and female are of equal value.
My Own Story
When I was 21, I was due to get married. It did fall apart — I hadn’t quite learnt the difference between a boyfriend and a life partner. But before it did, I said to him: when we get married, I’m going to keep my name.
He didn’t look up. He said: Well, you know where the door is.
And I was very grateful that he revealed that — and other things — before we actually married. So I used it.
So, when I was in my late 20’s, I decided to choose my own name. I set the intention. I went into nature for a week, and it came — without forcing it. I told a few friends. They stared at me and said: That IS your name!
And there was a shift in empowerment from that moment. Because now I am my own woman. I stand in my own lineage.
An Invitation
This is not a criticism of any woman’s choices. This is not me sitting here in judgment, saying you should do what I’ve done.
This is an invitation to question what name you are carrying. What message it gives to your daughters. To your sons. To your wider culture, your sisters, your brothers, in not having a name of your own.
Let your system digest it. Dream on it. Look at the world with this information and wonder how things might feel different — not a little different. Quite a lot different.
If you feel called to go deeper into what it means to come home to yourself as a woman — your womb, your lineage, your sovereignty — you can explore 1:1 work here.
