when the book eat pray love first came out i was a junior in college and i had absolutely no interest in reading it.yes, yes, even though it was on the new york times best selling list (and remained for 187 consecutive weeks), and even though my college roommate, nose buried in the book assured me i would love it, even then, no.i thought i knew better because i vaguely knew what it was about: a young women in her thirties, who divorced her husband, didn't want any kids and left her beautiful suburb life in new york of everything, in search of her happiness by traveling the world. at the time it sounded a little too self-serving for me. i mean, i come from a long line of women who birthed 10 pound babies, got married young and aren't afraid to get their hands dirty. none of this "leave all responsibility to find your identity" crap seemed to relate to me.then 8 years later, a new friend most recently asked me if i'd read eat pray love. after shaking my head no, i told her it was on my list, but i honestly didn't really have any plans of reading it any time soon until she said, "you would really love it. it's my favorite. " so, this month, i finally picked up a copy of the dang book.and i love it. seriously i feel liz (the author) is a friend and i just totally misjudged her and got the book all wrong.my misjudgment about the author got me thinking about a lot of things, but mainly the judging and identity crisis’ we go through as humans, but mainly, as women.i thought i went through a recent identity crisis, but, let's get real, i still feel i'm going through it.when john and i first got engaged i told him i didn't want to change my name. that sounds mean right? sounds like i'm a fool of a girl who doesn't love her man, but nothing could be further from the truth. i just really loved my name. it was something that was mine. i was born with it and i liked being called by it. plus there aren't that many of us in my family with my last name. my husband comes from a family of millions. i didn’t want to be known as anyone else. i felt i worked hard for my name. this is all so embarrassing to admit, like i have some silly movie star "stage name" mentality - "working hard for my name" - which heavens above, i'm certainly NO movie star or anyone important - so admitting this, makes me feel even more sheepish, but sheesh, can't i just like my name?why couldn’t i just be like every other girl i knew and change her dang name without hesitation? why couldn't i just be excited about it like most girls i knew instead of resisting it?did tina fey, maya rudolph or amy poehler ever have to go through anything like this? when i told john i didn't want to change my name he didn't even bat an eye. which, just goes to show you how perfect he is for me: i love your name too! keep it! he said, and just like that, my worries were soothed.well, kind of.when you have an engagement ring on your finger it's like a spotlight to strangers wanting to know about your anticipated new life and i swear, in all my life, i don't think i have EVER asked a girl what her new name was going to be, but man oh man, did i get this question daily. (i also want to disclose that at the time, i worked with the general public, so, yeah.) when i told them i wasn't changing it, their reactions were either curious, delighted, full of fear or disgusted.i had women shake their heads and say that i was stupid and just plain disrespectful.i had a man tell me once he wouldn't have married his wife had his wife not agreed to take on his name, like right in front of me. so i retorted with something like: "well it's a good thing i didn't marry you then isn't it?"the truth is, i didn't really know my name meant so much to me until marriage threatened to take it away. i tried to explain to people that changing my name felt like trying on pants that were way too big and someone telling me they looked good and fit perfectly when i knew better. pants, may i add, i had to wear for life.it also didn't really matter much that i resisted it. i got called my husband's last name everywhere when we were first married. even loved ones refused to call me by my "preferred name" saying i was silly. (and some of them still do ;) ) and i know God has a sense of humor because as friends so frequently remind me, "john's last name is SO similar to yours robyn, what's the difference?"fighting for your identity, or i guess, trying to have people call you what you want to be called is a struggle and messes with your feelings. it's like wearing a costume daily and walking into the room and having people chuckle and ask WHAT are you wearing? you don't feel proud, you feel exhausted and you just want everyone to get it.the worse part is, you are accused of being lots of things you aren't. you're teased and poked and people think you're stubborn and weird. after being prodded, i always felt like telling people i made my husband homemade lunches and loved to cook, and "did you know i used to volunteer and teach kids about home economics?" to show them a balance to my feminist ways. they assumed they knew me, but they didn't.