Names are an interesting concept if one really thinks about it. From the time we are young, identifying people, places, and things by their names is a key aspect of not only learning on its own, but also finding ways to navigate the world in which we live. For the most part, these identifiers are considered to be set, static titles. As with most aspects of language, conveying meaning and gaining shared understanding does have significant benefits in terms of interpersonal interaction.
Most things that we recognize by name are inanimate in nature, lacking in consciousness and ability to consent. Many other living beings, such as animals and plants, do not share our language or concept of identity in the way that we know it, leaving it again to humans to engage in the process of assigning and disseminating their various names. However, the concept of names for people has always fascinated me for the manner in which it plays out. For the vast majority of folks, they are named at birth by their parents and, save for some minor tweaks such as nicknames ('Matt' instead of 'Matthew,' 'Peg' instead of 'Margaret') or going by one's assigned middle name rather than one's assigned first name, that's just the way it is for the rest of their lives.
Of course, this convention makes sense at birth given that a baby does not yet possess the language skills or the levels of wordly awareness that they will even just a few years later. What is intriguing is that even once these attributes develop, "their" name is still usually one that has been assigned rather than one of their own choosing. For trans people, this concept can prove to be particularly vexing, as assigned names typically align with a gender to which one does not relate and can feel like a further reminder of the lack of autonomy over our own lives that society often tries to claim exists. That, however, is an illusion to be smashed.
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Quite a few years ago, I spent some time compiling a list of first names that I liked. Most of them started with a vowel with a lighter sound and I used several for character creation in games. The common throughline, of course, was also that they were all feminine names. It was the one thing related to my ideation of preferred gender that I remember getting "caught" with, as my mom found the list and inquired about it. I played it off by claiming that it was a list of prospective names should I ever have a daughter and that I simply had not yet gotten around to the names for boys. That was a lie, of course. Besides the fact that I never had plans to have children, there was never going to be a list of boys names. I had already been assigned one of those and never really wanted it, in spite of my mom's best intentions.
During my process of finally figuring things out two years ago, I read many stories from other trans people (mostly trans women) about their own experiences. Two that stood out for me on this particular topic were Mae Dean's comic about self-realization and Doc Impossible's personal story that springboards from having also read Mae's comic [TW: later posts in Doc Impossible/Zoë's series of articles do include considerations of self-harm]. In both instances, each woman had one name in the back of their respective self-consciouses that they would ultimately pick for their chosen name. This got me thinking back to the list of names in a concrete fashion for the first time in a long time, rather than it just being something that I had compiled and slightly referenced.
Unlike Mae and Zoë, there wasn't a single name that was emblazened in my brain as one that I had specifically singled out for use. It's not an exaggeration to say that there were probably several names that I would have been okay with using as my own; they had made the list, after all. However, as I further considered the notion that this would indeed be my name, I kept coming back to the point that I wanted it to be my name. There were plenty of other names on the list that I also liked, yet were ones that I associated with other women. Elizabeth was my grandmother's name, I knew several Emmas and Ericas/Erikas, Anne was the name of a lot of adults that I had known over the years (they weren't all names that started with an 'e'...), et al. Aside from a couple of minor acquaintances, I really did not know anyone else named Emily. It struck me right and felt good.
Even after I made the decision that Emily was my choice for name going forward, it's not as though things instantly changed. Sharing that this was how I wanted to be known going forward was still scary, both in terms of what reaction I might get as well as the fact that, to me, it felt like just saying the name made this real. However, the responses that I received were uniformly positive and even seemingly silly stuff like changing one's email address or website username to reflect the change gave me a positive jolt. I went from being very reticent to wondering why it had to take so long to be able to see a probate judge in order to make a legal name change. That day did eventually come, though, and getting to officially sign something using my new name was so unexpectedly cathartic. I cried a little bit when we got home from the courthouse, but it was okay. Emily had a good, happy cry that day. ;)
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It would not be something that I write if it was all sunshine and rainbows, of course. One thing that transphobes love to do is deadname trans people, which is typically enacted as a means of control and authority. This actually strikes a stark parallel to the world of sports, where athletes who have converted to Islam in particular have often had their chosen names be ignored. Think about how, even if 2026, you will hear Kareem Abdul-Jabbar and Muhammad Ali casually referred to by the names that they have not used in 60 years, while Ahmad Rashad was repeatedly called by his old name before getting traded to the Vikings and having coach Bud Grant taking the care to actually respect Rashad's personal/religious autonomy.
When you come back to the initial point in this post, though, it feels ludicrous to me that anyone would have the temerity to tell people - trans or otherwise - what their names are. It is particularly wild when it occurs online and the folks hurling insults are utilizing pseudonyms that I'm pretty sure are not on their birth certificates. However, I believe that there's a lot in a name and a lot of value in being able to call yourself something that makes you feel whatever positive sentiment one wishes a name to bestow. Whether that name is one your have chosen, one that was picked for you, or anything in between, it's yours to decide and yours to hold. Even though my name wasn't always Emily, I've always been Emily and I am happy to get to speak the name aloud. :)
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In between posts, we've had a ton of redeems on my Twitch channel, going over 100 custom cards in the gallery. That triggered a switchover from the 1952 Topps design to 1987 Topps, which has definitely been a fun change of pace. I've also gone through way too many archives and found a bevy of other designs that I can semi-replicate with my stellar MS Paint skills, which should help keep up some variety going forward. In IRL news, I threw on Tuesday for the first time since 2024 and it was great. Hopefully that can be the kickstart toward playing something next spring!
Meanwhile no one seems to have had a problem getting used to "Giancarlo Stanton" or "David Ortiz". Only when there's a minority to oppress.
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