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I have a deep dislike for my name. Oh, now, don’t start burning me at the stake just yet! I’ve got a lot to say, and not nearly as many people to listen, but I don’t care. It’s the real ones that stay. Makes it easier for me to weed out all the possible mistakes. However, I digress.
Names. It’s a simple and complex thing. It’s beautiful. How old was I when I realized that more than one person could have the same name? I was shocked, confused, and mostly intrigued. How in the world would people be able to differentiate from each other now? It was on my mind until I figured that people just had to deal with it. Imagine how weird it would be if I was the only person with my name!
…Awkward silence. In my whole entire life, I’ve never met someone with my name. I’m not talking about my pseudonym. (Yes, Akihiko Yoshino is not my real name, get over it.) Anyway, I was slightly disappointed. I wasn’t sure if I was supposed to feel happy or not that my name wasn’t common where I live.
However, ever since I was young, I had such a dislike for my name, which was even more amplified by the time I began identifying as nonbinary. It was a traditional, gendered name that means “deserving of love.” No matter how beautiful it might mean I didn’t like it because I didn’t feel like it was me anymore. And I resented the meaning of it in spite and bitterness. I felt the complete opposite of what it was saying. So I went with a nickname. Yet, even when I write, I wouldn’t even use that name. Why? It’s not uncommon to use another name when writing, so what’s the difference?
I keep coming up with pseudonyms! And each one had some sort of connotation, some sort of message I was trying to convey. Akihiko Yoshino, which is what I write with right now. I created it when I wanted to write both seriously and for fun. Akihiko. Autumn or bright boy. It was masculine, but I felt like it was me. Yoshino, with the kanji I use, means ‘fragrant field.’ I like to picture a calm field when I think of it. It puts me at peace.
Still, I wasn’t satisfied. Very recently, I created a new pseudonym. I plan on publishing with that name… However I felt conflicted. My names were so deeply ingrained into my head that the thought of going with a new name…
Was it really me? Will I ever be true to myself?
I wanted people to know me, but I wanted them to know me for a name that I could stick with and wouldn’t want to change. Still, I am too afraid of what they may think. It’s not too late, sure. Before I can turn to the world, I must turn to myself and find the true meaning of a name.
It’s like a face. If we were given the opportunity to change our face many times over without limit, we would never be satisfied. We would live a life not knowing who we truly are. If I were to change my name many times over, I fear I may never find the one name I can use and feel proud of. I feel insincere.
Perhaps there is a different conflict underneath this that goes beyond names.
After all, it is only a name. A name is like a word, and the story you tell is the definition of who you are. We can’t keep changing the words and expect the meaning to stay the same, and vice versa. For once, I’d like a name I can stick with.227Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡx2lhvVYJKq
