• Growing up, I didn't think I'd change my last name when I got married.
• But when I came out as a lesbian and met my now-wife, I changed my mind.
• Rather than choosing one of our existing last names or hyphenating, we created something new.

Before I came out as a lesbian, I was sure I wouldn't adopt the last name of my future husband. I knew I was going to be a writer and felt that I wanted to have a name that I could build a brand around, and like many closeted lesbians, I was sure I wouldn't be getting married until well into my career and my 40s. Thankfully, I made a lot of realizations six years ago when I met my now-wife. It also meant I had to revisit my previous stance on name changes. Since I found my forever partner, I actually wanted us to be tied together in name and in life.

But choosing whose name to pick became more challenging as we stripped away traditional gender roles. I could have pushed for us to use my name if I really wanted to keep the name attached to my bylines, but again, since we weren't relying on heteronormative practices telling us what to do, giving Taryn my last name didn't feel very symbolic. It became a transformative choice to decide upon a new married name for ourselves and our future children.

We looked at other last names, but nothing felt quite right

One thing remained true: I am a writer, and my other half is an artist. We both needed a name that could represent us in our aspiring careers. It felt silly to go on a last-name generator website, but it seemed like a good start to find some different options and see if anything sparked inspiration. It gave us a list — Cooper, Gardner, Baker, Stewart — but none of these last names felt right with either or both of our names.

I started to feel like I was undergoing a small identity crisis. This name was going to define me for the rest of my life. At least with my maiden name, I had 25 years to get attached to it. I might not have picked it myself, but it was the only thing I had ever known.

We decided to create a new name for ourselves

But then there was this moment where Taryn and I thought about creating a new name that tied us to our past and future. We tried different ways of combining our names phonetically. My last name was Ruffino, and hers was Smith. What we got was Suffino. It was the easiest combination that felt good on the ears. I looked up the name, and it had no origins at all. It also didn't quite look right to us, like a cheesy ship name.

That's when I really got to work researching different prefixes and suffixes. I knew "ino" from my last name meant little. When I looked at other ways to get that same "suff" or "saff" sound, I was reminded of the word sapphire, which also happened to be the stones we chose for our engagement rings.

Not to totally geek out, but the root origin of the word sapphire comes from the Greek word sappheiros, which means "blue gemstone." If we spelled our name Sapphino, we would get the meaning "little blue."

Another hidden meaning in the name is the origin of sapphic. Yes, the word that relates to lesbians. Sappho was the name of a famous Greek poet who wrote about her love of women. Long story short, our name can also be interpreted as "little lesbian" (my personal favorite).

And thus, the Sapphinos were born. It didn't take long to get used to at all. It felt right and the perfect way to share our identity with each other and the world. I'm just as excited to see where the name Kylie Sapphino takes me as I am to pass it down to my own family, knowing that it has such a special meaning to us and our story.

• My wife and I got married earlier this year, and planning the wedding was stressful.
• Leading up to the holiday season, I felt pressure to make our first Christmas together special.
• After talking to her, I realized that just creating memories together was enough.

After a stressful year of planning our perfect September wedding, I wasn't prepared to face additional pressure now that the holidays are approaching. This wasn't an ordinary Christmas filled with relaxation, eggnog, and just a sprinkle of family drama; this was the Christmas that would mark our first milestone as a married couple and set the tone for years to come.

During our first year planning the holidays as a married couple, we learned that navigating the season as a twosome is more stressful than we thought. Whose side of the family will we see? What traditions do we want to create or partake in? There were so many choices to make, and people pulling us in different directions, even with good intentions. Since we'd only get one shot at our first Christmas as a married couple, I worried that if we didn't create the perfect holiday, we would ruin this special moment.

I felt pressure to make our first Christmas together special

We live in New York City, and when we decided that visiting my family in Texas was too far this year (weddings are expensive!), we offered to host my wife's family, who were only a few-hour drive away. Foregoing travel would mitigate some of the holiday stress. However, marrying into a big family like I did, I was still worried our celebration as a newlywed couple would get lost in the holiday chaos. This is without any fault to my amazing new family; it simply can't be helped.

Many of their family traditions are also different from my own. For example, they like to celebrate on Christmas Day, while I love the magic of a sparkling Christmas Eve. I can still bring traditions to their family, like decorating gingerbread houses, which I've done every year. Part of the original excitement toward the holiday was thinking about all the family traditions we would create together.

It took me a long time to voice my concerns to my wife, worried I was overthinking it or wanting too much attention to still be on us. After all, we got married four months ago. However, my fears ended up being unfounded because, like the loving wife she is, Taryn listened and asked me what would make our holiday feel special. The truth was, I didn't know. Though I had all these expectations that this Christmas was supposed to feel different, I had no idea how to make that happen.

I had to get real with myself and understand that, just like when planning a wedding, putting too much pressure on yourself is the fastest way to steal the joy out of the process. Letting go of the idea of making things perfect allows me to focus on what truly matters: creating memories with my wife.

My wife and I decided to focus on creating memories together

So how do you go about making a newlywed Christmas as memorable as possible? We started with Christmas cards. Since we had a small wedding, not everyone in our life got to celebrate with us. Sending out Christmas cards we made together to those who are important to us helped us share our love — and our wedding photos. Speaking of wedding photos, there's no better Christmas gift for our family than a photo album to remember the special day.

We got an ornament with our wedding date on it for the tree, started planning out a festive dinner for our family, and, most importantly, we decided to prioritize spending time together. Little things like these helped me reclaim the excitement of our first Christmas. I realized I didn't have to put pressure on myself — or my wife — to do big things each day to have a special holiday season. We could do simple things, like share quiet moments or cook new holiday dishes as a couple.

I'm most excited to wake up on Christmas and have a private gift exchange (and not just because I love presents). Seeing Taryn open her gift will bring me irreplaceable joy, which I'm excited to share with her as a married couple. We made our mission simple: pick out a new winter scarf we think the other will love.

Our Christmas as newlyweds won't be the only one we spend together, no matter how special it feels. Romanticizing our first holiday was great in theory until it became a pressure cooker for perfection — decidedly unromantic. But in the process of reframing my mindset, I found that there was still magic and romance for the taking.