Becoming Babatunde
“Becoming Babatunde.” It has a nice ring. My cousin, Eryka, came up with the phrase for the official bachelorette hashtag. I thought it was perfect. I love a good alliteration. As I continued to say the words out loud, “Becoming Babatunde,” I thought to myself, “Where does my last name fit in?”
As a recently engaged woman in a relationship with a modern, millennial, partnership approach to life, I have to admit that taking my husband’s last name is complicated. My views have evolved over time. After having this conversation with a number of girlfriends, I thought I’d unpack what “Becoming Babatunde” means to me and how I got here.
My initial strong attachment to my last name was tied to a feeling of loss. My last name, Menzies, has always been part of who I am. As a track athlete in high school and college, my coaches and teammates called me Menzies. Even at my firm now, some colleagues opt to call me Menzies. My IG handle is “Ms. Menzies.” I’m also close with my dad’s side of the family, and we all share the same last name—Menzies.
My dad has three brothers who are married with children. Growing up my aunts, uncles, and cousins cheered me on at track meets, soccer games, and dance recitals. Trips to Disneyland; backyard dance parties with barbecue on the grill and Earth, Wind & Fire playing in the background; Christmas at Lake Tahoe; Guyanese-style curry crab and roti; soul food Sundays with macaroni and cheese, fried chicken, and greens; and lots of college basketball games. A mix of all your favorite black family sitcoms—The Cosby Show (the show, not the man), Fresh Prince of Bel Air, and Black-ish—minus the money. I like to say the epitome of Black familial joy. We are the Menzies family. You get the point. How could I give up a name tied to so much meaning—so many memories?
I also realized that the change in name felt unsettling because there was a subtle message telling me that I might have to change who I am. To be frank, I really like who I am. I don’t want to change for someone else. I’ve made that mistake in the past. I worked hard spiritually, personally, and professionally to grow into the woman I am today. Has my fiancé, Segun, helped me grow? Absolutely! But I also started dating Segun on the eve of my 27th birthday. I had already experienced a lot of growth by then. I thought I’d have to give something up.
I carried these feelings for a while and did not think much about it because keeping your last name is very much accepted in my circle of friends. More women are opting to keep their last names. After speaking with a number of friends, I realized there are a mix of reasons. One friend said she had a successful career and her last name is part of who she is. She’s not willing to compromise. Another friend said her name is a sign of her Latinx heritage, which is important to signal in the tech industry. The tech industry, like many other industries, has few women of color. Another girlfriend’s father passed away, so she would like to honor his legacy. She also noted that it is an Ethiopian tradition for women to keep their last names. Another friend explained that as a feminist, she thinks it is important that empowered women do not take actions to reinforce patriarchal societal norms. She even suggested that her husband take her last name. She went to Berkeley, of course. And one girlfriend said her last name just sounds better. She also said that it would be easier to find her in a Google search for professional purposes. She happens to be on the the Forbes 30 under 30 list, so people actually Google her. A problem I don’t have. Other friends said that they had not given it much thought and that they just hadn’t gotten around to the paperwork. It can be a tedious process. These were all good reasons that were not entirely applicable to my situation. Nonetheless, it got me thinking.
Other friends, often from more religious backgrounds, felt that it was important to take their husband’s last name. One girlfriend said she wanted to take her husband’s last name because it is a symbol of their union to the world. She explained that although the title of “marriage” usually changes little about a couple’s relationship in a practical way, she expressed that there is something special about sharing a last name with her husband. That resonated with me. We also talked about the proposal and what the ring means to me—a ring I spent over a year designing to ensure it had the perfect shape and sparkle. While a legal marriage and a ring are certainly things you really don’t need to have a committed and loving relationship, I want them. I do like these markers to society. These are things I care about. Perhaps it is because I grew up in a more traditional Christian home. Maybe it’s because my ESFJ Myer’s Briggs personality type says that I value tradition and care about what other people think. Maybe it’s because I like sharing the same last name with my parents? Perhaps it is a mix of these things and more. One thing was certain: my thoughts about changing my last name were beginning to change.
In the beginning of my relationship with Segun, I was somewhat more aligned with the first group of women. I had certainly become pro-hypthenation—Menzies-Babatunde. That was the plan. These thoughts and feelings began to wane as I grew in my relationship with Segun. Now I completely understand and, to a certain extent, share the feelings of the women who have taken their husband’s last name.
I realized that there is no loss of self or family in marrying Segun and taking his name, there is only gain. I love Segun’s family. They are warm and loving. They’ve really accepted me as family. The pandemic has made it tough because we haven’t seen them in nearly a year; I really miss them. I was a little surprised, but I think it’s because I see them as family. I miss watching hours and hours of Hallmark Christmas movies and dancing to gospel music with his stepmom. Things I do with my own mom, so it feels like home. I enjoy long conversations with his dad about life. He is wise and kind. Traits he shares with my dad. And I have a ton of fun with his mom and stepdad. Last time we saw them, his mom and I were singing our hearts out to country music at a karaoke bar.
Segun also has lots of siblings. As an only child, this is all around amazing. Whether it’s helping his little brother with his college applications or hanging out with his sister and her adorable toddler, there’s always something fun to do. I also instantly clicked with his cousins. The Babatunde women are sweet, compassionate, chic, smart, love to travel, and appreciate a good glass of champagne—my favorite drink. I’m still super tight with my family, and Segun fits right in. No loss here, only gain.
More importantly, there is no loss of self. My mom recently made a comment that put this into perspective. She said, “One thing I really love about Segun is that he lets you be you. He doesn’t try to change you and loves you for who you are.” My mom saw me try to change myself in previous relationships. She also saw my partner try to change me in those relationships. I learned that two people with good intentions can come together and simply not work. That’s okay. Trying to change each other only leads to toxicity and failure. My mom has seen how Segun loves and accepts me just as I am. She said, “My son-in-law is smart. He knows my baby is perfect.” While I love my mom’s rose-colored perception of me, I agree that Segun is smart. He is smart enough to know that he should not try to build a life with a woman he wants to change. He should only build a life with a woman he wants to love unconditionally.
This unconditional love that Segun has given me is a love I was afraid I would never find. He praises my good qualities and embraces the not so pretty parts of me. The parts that use “I” as opposed to “we.” The parts of me that are emotional and dramatic. The parts of me that live in contradictions. For instance, I’m an independent boss who can figure out things on my own one day. And the next, I’m a dependent princess who needs lots of attention, help, and reassurance. There are simple things I suddenly can no longer do when Segun is around—like call an Uber, get rid of a spider, and navigate directions. Actually, I’m not sure I can do the directions part without him. Anyway, he loves me for exactly who I am and tells me to never change. The crazy thing is that this kind of love makes me want to change. It makes me want to be a better person. A better partner to Segun. He brings out the best parts of me, and I love who I am with him.
I am also very much in love with who Segun is. Despite his homebody, cereal “cooking”, video gaming, debate champion, occasional dancing ways, he is my person. He is kind, patient, non-judgmental, confident but humble, brilliant, and handsome. He has the biggest heart and does whatever he can to help his family. He has held me together during the most challenging times of my life. He’s an excellent teacher, whether he is explaining U.S. immigration policy or the nuances of the Black Lives Matter Movement to his little brothers or the lyrics of J Cole’s latest song to me. I love Segun’s mind—the way he thinks. He is thoughtful and reasonable. He is logical without being inhumane. And his perspective is refreshing and persuasive. We have the best conversations about anything and everything. While I wouldn’t describe him as a naturally funny guy, we are constantly laughing together. He is my best friend and a big part of who I am today.
After reflecting on my personal journey and our journey together, Ashley Menzies doesn’t feel quite right. It doesn’t fully represent who I am. At the same time, neither does Ashley Babatunde. I realized both names are important to me and both names represent different parts of me. But the hyphenation is a mouthful. So, I’ve decided to change my middle name to Menzies. Mrs. Ashley Menzies Babatunde—Segun and I both like the sound of that. Becoming Babatunde is in full effect.