Just about every day, I am reminded that I haven’t quite decided who I am. This morning I filled out the application for an International Driving Permit: circle Miss, Mrs. or Ms. You would think that by now, I would know which it is. So I did an unscientific survey of married friends and found that none of them had a clue either. At work and out in the world, I’m Ms. Gibbs; at my daughters’ school and the pediatrician, I am Mrs. May; to a few people who’ve known me since I was 2, Miss Nancy. Some friends use their husband’s name, but their e-mail addresses are their maiden name, though that dainty phrase seems to have been banished in favor of birth name. I never understood why, from the perspective of fighting the patriarchy, it was somehow more liberated to bear your father’s name than your husband’s, especially since you choose your husband and inherit your father. In my case, each had an efficient, pronounceable name. How to choose?
