#5 The right name

Column text from the 28th of July, 2024

Hello!
A quick note before we begin: The column, just like me, now has a new name: Cosmo's Kaleidoscope. After all, it's about my view of things and it's made up of various individual parts (my own experiences, theory, experiences of others...) that shed light on a topic. Like a kaleidoscope. I found that somehow fitting.
The following text will also be about names - namely my own.
Have fun and thanks for reading!
Cosmo

Disclaimer: In this text trans hostility as well as dysphoria will be mentioned.

When I found out what I could have been called, I was actually quite happy that my mother had got her way with the name. Joana. The name hits different with that awful après ski song in my ear. When I asked my mother this question about the process of deciding on my birth name, she was cleaning the kitchen. As she cleared the pots from a shelf, she smiled and we laughed about how funny Joana would have been as a name for me. The name they eventually chose for me was the same as my uncle, her younger brother. I can't remember whether she said that was the intention and whether I got that name because the two of them were very close back then or whether they just liked how it sounds. The only thing that mattered to me at that moment was that the name they gave me apparently meant something to her.

I asked about this because I was actually looking for what this name meant to me. Apart from that pull at the back of my mind when it was called in relation to me. I was always glad that there were nicknames. Nicknames meant, at least that's how I understood them, that 1. you belonged to a community, after all, they gave you the name, 2. they liked you and 3. it automatically made you cooler. Also, and this was particularly relevant for me, it meant that the full name was used less often. But I tried to come to terms with it anyway, after all I only had this one name and it was important to my parents. For this reason, I consulted the internet and typed it into Google to find out what it generally meant. The answer was not very satisfying or helpful: "follower of faith in Jesus Christ". Apart from a brief period when I went to church regularly because I thought that this way nothing could happen to my family (God rewards the faithful!), this meaning didn't have much to do with me. So I stuck with the nickname - no matter how boring I found it. But it was the lesser of two evils.

When I started at a new school at the age of 15, it was the height of the emo scene and the beginnings of social media. Everyone was finding new names for themselves and it was quite exciting, but also difficult, because the name had to fulfill a few criteria: It had to be unique, look cool and sound cool. Bonus points if it was in English. I couldn't think of much, but a schoolmate turned the spelling of my old nickname into the name by which most people know me nowadays: Chrisieh. At that moment it was like an initiation, but it was also a release from the pressure I felt from my previous names. I really loved this name and to this day I think it's great: it somehow looks very cool, people didn't confuse me anymore with other people who had similar names, it was actually the same name as before, but spelled differently (therefore inconspicuous enough that I didn't have to justify it), the name wasn't already taken anywhere on the internet and it was mine alone. It had everything I needed from it. The only thing it lacked was professionalism. In later work contexts and at university, I was worried that it might somehow make me seem too "immature", so I only used it online and with friends and once again tried to make friends with my full name.

But no matter how hard I tried we didn't really warm up to each other and that really confused me. I didn't understand this more or less strong aversion to it at times. The name hadn't done anything to me. When other people wore it, I actually thought it was really beautiful. But somehow it didn't suit me. Maybe I just needed to work on myself and adapt to the name? But how? My big chosen sister in particular was a role model for me and gave the name a new meaning. I owe her a lot, and she is not only a beautiful person who, in my opinion, always enchants everyone she meets, but also one of the most generous, upright, and wise people I have ever met. No one I know loves as fearlessly as she does. I've always admired that, and that's what the name has meant to me ever since. I somehow made peace with it and wore it with pride.

It worked well for a while and was right for me, but in recent years I realized how alienated I was becoming. From the persona I had built around the name, the life she was leading at the time, and the name that went with it. When someone asked me about it, my answer felt like it had been memorized and had nothing to do with me anymore. When I learned that many trans people change their names, it somehow triggered something in me: anticipation, excitement, euphoria. I didn't know I was trans at the time, but I started thinking about names that sounded cool, and I thought it was so great that these people were taking the liberty to name themselves. What a radical act of self-love and self-acceptance! It impressed me, but I didn't see that I had a right to it. I didn't want to take lightly what is such a big, important thing for many in the trans community. I didn't want to "cosplay" being trans.