I’m married. Does that make me a Mrs.?

Hold on. I never changed my last name. Can I go by Mrs. Downs? That doesn’t sound right.

So, I must be a "Ms." But if that’s true, should I correct children when they call me Miss Emma? (It’s Ms . Emma, you rugrat!") Sounds a little harsh.

I wouldn’t even be asking myself this question if I hadn’t noticed – during my online Christmas shopping – that every other Web site wants an answer.

"Who should we ship this embarrassingly titled copy of ‘Behold! Here’s Poison!’ to? Mrs., Miss or Ms. Downs?"

You’d think after more than three decades, I’d know what to call myself.

Then again, one title doesn’t exactly fit all these days. Two or three maybe, but not one.

Sarah Anderson, director at East Wayne Street Head Start, has been known to go by three, she says.

Once upon a time, Anderson insisted children call her Mrs. Anderson. But these days, she goes by Miss Sarah. In fact, all of the 10 teachers there go by Miss while they work.

"For children, first names are often shorter than last names," Anderson says. "So, part of calling everyone ‘Miss’ is that it’s easier for children, especially when their vocabulary isn’t well-developed. But it’s also personal, too."

And less confusing.

"When I asked to be called ‘Mrs. Anderson’ at my last job, the kids would get it mixed up," she says. "They’d end up calling me ‘Mr. Anderson.’ "

"Miss" isn’t always personal – or flattering, for that matter – outside of the classroom, though.

For some single adult women, "Miss" can feel like an insult, says Lauren Caggiano, who does marketing and fundraising for Community Action of Northeast Indiana.

Caggiano is single but prefers the term "Ms."

" ‘Miss’ makes me think back to high school," she says. "When a teacher would say, ‘Miss Brown did not do her assignment.’ It’s condescending. It indicates inferiority."

And Ms. – or even Mrs. – can come in handy when you want people to assume you are married, even though you aren’t, Caggiano says.

"If you’re in a position where you can become vulnerable if people find out you’re single, it’s an option," she says. "I’ve done that before – using Ms. to prevent people hitting on you."

Whichever you choose – Mrs. Ms. or Miss (or all of them) – deciding is up to the individual, says Joan Uebelhoer, who taught Women’s Studies at Indiana University-Purdue University Fort Wayne for more than 30 years.

"They’re all acceptable terms now," she says. "During the 1970s, if a woman used ‘Ms.’ it was a sign she was one of those radicals, you know. One of those feminist babes. But it’s commonplace now."

She’s right. "Ms." is not a political statement anymore; it’s a matter of convenience. Both Miss Manners (who has obviously made her decision) and Emily Post use "Ms." as the default title regardless of marital status.

You never get it wrong with "Ms.," they say.

"I go by ‘Ms.’ because it’s something I want," Uebelhoer says. "For heaven’s sake, what difference does it make whether I’m married or not? What a woman calls herself isn’t that important in my life. I’m sure it’s not that important in yours. It’s a wonder why people still continue to ask."

edowns@jg.net