Here we are, then. My first post as a married laydeee. What do married laydees write about, I wonder? Grown up things, surely. Pensions, maybe. Or private healthcare. Or the best way to protect lettuces from slugs.
I, however, remain excited by shoes and wine. Maybe I’m not legally married? Can’t say I’ve got the certificate out of its envelope to check, does anyone? Am I supposed to? It’s still sitting in the same place it has been since the day after the wedding, propped on the mantlepiece while I put off changing my name legally in favour of just changing it on things that don’t require legal proof.
Incidentally, I am going to change my name. Not on here but in all other ways. I am going to. I don’t want to have a different surname to my daughter and my husband (husband! check me out just dropping that in there all casually!). But I must admit to dragging my feet. I’ve had my old name for a long time now. It’s a big family name, a proud family name. I am not sure I want to just drop it entirely. I don’t want to just spend 10 minutes in an airless office in the Civic Centre and emerge clutching a piece of paper that tells me I am now somebody else. So I haven’t yet made the appointment to sit in said airless room. I will do, just not…yet.
Fabulously amazing photo above is by Emma Case.