In an IRL conversation and then in another with Sarah Lynn Morgan, I got to thinking about names, and how important it is to a person to be called by a name they've internalized. From the time most people are little, they hear their name again and again. It becomes >their< word, a very personal, emotional thing. If there is a negative feeling associated with that name (as may be the case when one has massive problems with their gender, and their name is very gender-bound to the painful gender) then the name becomes painful to hear. Likewise if a name is then chosen by someone transitioning from one gender expression to another, that new name, while a little unfamiliar, is associated with the relief from the strain of trying to manifest a gender alien to one.
I've heard that when one hears such an internalized name, that sensation causes the release of a small amount of serotonin into the brain. In effect, hearing one's name is to each person an addictive experience, a hit of a drug if you will. In any event, hearing a name one is happy with is pleasurable, making one >more< happy in the hearing.
It's thoughts like these that inspired the following tanka (a waka or Japanese poetry form, a precursor to haiku):
From a single word's usage
Hearing you say it
Did you know that my own name
Is, to me, like finest wine?
Thank you, everyone who's called me what >I< needed to be called, rather than forcing me to deal with names that get more and more painful every day. It means a lot more than you might have guessed.
-Liz
Comments
Too much of a good thing
I have a patient who ends every sentence with my name, when she's speaking to me. It can get very wearing, but preferable to the one I was originally given.
Having said that, it was extremely satisfying to be called by my chosen name by my family, especially my mother. However, that is a long time ago.
I like the poem, Liz.
Angharad.
Angharad
Yes, especially my mother
I have to agree with you 100%, Angharad, about hearing my mother using my new name being the most satisfying.
It's funny. When I came out to my family two years ago, they were all completely supportive and understanding, but Mom went above and beyond, asking for reading materials so she could study up and better understand what I was going through. She voraciously read everything I sent her, too--and it was a lot.
Then a couple of months ago I told them I was transitioning and would be changing my name, and that's when she got upset. Apparently they'd put a lot of thought and love into choosing my name--a perfectly fine name for a boy, certainly, and one I would probably have felt quite comfortable with, had I only been in fact a boy. So this announcement touched a nerve.
After going off and fretting about it for a day, though, Mom emailed me back to apologize for her reaction, allowed as how she understood that I needed a name I would be comfortable with going forward, and again went above and beyond--she must have used my new name over a dozen times in that one email, on the premise that the more she used it, the sooner she'd get used to it. Since then she's only slipped and used my old name once. And once my sister had helped me choose a middle name (actually just the female version of my old middle name), and I relayed the decision to Mom, she even commented on how pretty she thought it sounded together, and how well it seemed to fit me.
Mom and I had always been pretty close, but this has brought us even closer.
That being said, I'm still getting used to being called by the new name. As rewarding as it is to hear it, it still isn't nearly as deeply-ingrained as the old one, and my response isn't quite completely automatic yet. At least I've trained myself fairly well not to react visibly to the old one; all those evenings frittered away in college playing poker weren't a complete waste of time.
Oh, and I agree about the poem too. Very nice. :)
It does feel good
Doesn't it? I didn't choose either one of my own names, either the male or female one. I was actually unknowingly given my female name by a professor at college - because of the way that I say my name when I introduce myself by my male name combined with what was a fairly androgynous appearance at the time she mistook it for 'Melanie', and it's just kind of stuck ever since. I get called Melanie all the time at work too, even with a name tag on, which always feels good. It's surprising a lot of times though because I've really let myself go the last couple of years and don't try to present as female, but apparently long hair, earrings, and a cheery voice are enough for most people. :P
Melanie E.
It feels great, doesn't it?
It feels great, doesn't it? I'm used to it now, but it still has an effect to hear my proper name sometimes. Nice tanka, Liz!
Saless
"But it is also tradition that times *must* and always do change, my friend." - Eddie Murphy, Coming To America
"But it is also tradition that times *must* and always do change, my friend." - Eddie Murphy, Coming To America
You can call me anything, except late for dinner!
My name isn't that important to me. Heck, when my mother calls me, she might go through three or four names before she gets the right one, it's all good, I know she's talking to me!
Mr. Ram
The Heart String Name
I was named Gwinn when I was born, but most people just assumed that it was Gwen. I had difficulty at times passing as a Man, because my Name, voice and actions seemed somehow feminine to many of those around me. I poured on a load of bravado in order to get my rightful place in Manhood, but it just seemed to never really fly.
So, as soon as I transitioned, I changed it to Gwen. Then adoring the English like I do someone called me Gwendolyn. As I remember, even when I was a child, I would get called Gwendolyn when someone was pissed off at me. Oh, what vicarious joy! Finally Sarah L M started calling me Gwendolyn and it seemed like a done deal.
About three years ago, I changed it to Khadija for reasons of my faith and I wanted a clean break. Some people still called me Gwen, and others called me Khadija. I did not think the Khadija name was very important to me but in the last two weeks I have worked a lot with a bunch of people who try to imitate the Hippies of the 60's. They think that Khadija is a fitting name and that is all I have been called since. I must say that is has grown on me and now I am wishing that I had changed it a long time ago. Maybe I just need a break from my pre transition name in spite of the fact that it sounded so female.
Maybe it is some sort of Karma, or is it Caramel; not much of a Hindu, can't say. So to those who like me and respect me, I'd like to request that it be Khadija. Though I will likely still publish as Gwen Brown; wouldn't want to give Erin an excuse to thrash me. :)
Khadija
How is that pronounced?
Is it Kaaja, Kadigeaa, or some other way? Often words and names that originated in another language with a different alphabet don't translate well into English.
Mr. Ram
Khadija
Well, if you were from the Middle East, and could handle the Kh like they do, you would roll them and it would be sort of gutteral. Well that is too difficult for Americans. I study Arabic and am getting the idea, but it is hard.
So, you could actually pronounce the Kh as Ka, and then use normal English rules for the rest of it. :)
Many Blessings
Khadija
LOL
K(h)ah-dee-jah you mean? Where's the accented syllable, if it has one?
The sound at the beginning is similar to the Scots ch and something like the uvular r in French. Further back than the German ch but with only a touch of that French gargling quality. It's rather difficult to master without in person instruction and correction and unless you speak Arabic every day, you're not going to get good at it.
Every language has difficult sounds and lots of people struggle with English thr, for example. :)
Hugs,
Erin
= Give everyone the benefit of the doubt because certainty is a fragile thing that can be shattered by one overlooked fact.
= Give everyone the benefit of the doubt because certainty is a fragile thing that can be shattered by one overlooked fact.
I think...
...this is the fricative [x], and >I< would guess the stress would be on the second syllable, but I might be wrong. Is the "j" a [j] (semi-vowel) or a [dž] (like the "j" in judge). (*curses her lack of proper IPA input method...* Bad lappy!)
Thus: [xə 'di - jə] or [xə 'di - džə]. (Not that it matters >too< much to the pronunciationally-challenged in a "text" context. :-P )
Erin: In addition to English "thr", I've always found a soft spot in my sense of humor for "thw". (^__^) The non-word "thwarth" is one of my favorite pronunciation exercises to inflict on a ESL student (which is probably why I'm not working as an ESL teacher...). Once a student has mastered that, their fast-pronunciation >does< show a marked improvement, however.
-Liz
Successor to the LToC
Formerly known as "momonoimoto"
Thank you...
...for the compliments on my poem. (^__^) I actually got to brag about something nice at my writers' group last night.
My name is actually the middle name that my mother had picked out had I been born female. I had actually intended to call myself something entirely different, but after a conversation with her where she told me about the names she had picked out for my sibs and me, I kept thinking about this one, and just found myself caught by it. (*^__^*) So, Elizabeth am I, and rather delighted to my surprise.
I do wish I could >tell< her that the name she wanted to use so much is >being< used, but one step at a time. >.<
-Liz
Successor to the LToC
Formerly known as "momonoimoto"