Searching for a new name

Reasons I wanted to change my name (younger years)

• I’ve never felt fully at home in my birth name, even as a young child. There hasn’t been a time in my life when I haven’t internally cringed when I hear anyone (other than my mom) say Aryenish… even my sister, even my partner.

• I remember being 6 years old and realizing that nearly everyone I’ve interacted with failed to say Aryenish correctly: friends, teachers, strangers, etc. – that remains true to this day, decades later.

• Part of what I don’t like about “Aryenish” is there are so many ways to pronounce it and I myself don’t fully know what I prefer or what’s “right.” Even my two parents pronounce Aryenish differently, as does my extended family. So it’s no wonder that just about everyone I’ve interacted with puts their spin on it. I’ve tried to reframe this to myself for nearly 20 years but I’ve always found it annoying. 

• Even more important, I don’t like how any of the variations sound to my own ears, it’s just not a name/word that I think sounds pretty.

• In the fourth grade, a friend just started calling me “Anna” without asking me, and then everyone around us started calling me that too. I acquiesced and asked people to do it too. At the time, nearly everyone I interacted with (who were all white), including my friends and their parents, teachers, and coaches, said directly (or something to the effect of), “Thank God you now go by a nickname.” But when I entered high school, I asked everyone to use Aryenish again and adopted an “easier” pronunciation.

• There’s no way to underestimate the power of these experiences at such a formative age on my disdain for my name. However, I’ve worked deeply and diligently on uprooting my internalized racism with respect to my name and feel confident now that I simply don’t like the sound and the numerous ways to say it.

• This is why I was clear that I wanted to find a name that’s authentic to my lineage despite how difficult it might be for people in the U.S. to say (more on my naming process below).

• Growing up, my name was just one more example of the divide I felt existed between me and everyone else — it was yet another way for me to feel “othered.”

Reasons I wanted to change my name (post-high school)

• It’s impossible to know how much of my feelings today are connected to my past. I know they are. I also know I’ve spent hundreds, if not thousands of hours, working to feel comfortable in my name using every technique out there.

• I truly believe I’m at a place now where I can confidently say that Aryenish is simply a name that doesn’t suit me.

• I want a name that’s more phonetically and symbolically appealing to me – and I now believe I deserve that. It has taken so.much.work to get to the point of feeling entitled to have a name I love.

• There’s a unique, self-energized power that comes from choosing your own name. I’m able to recognize that my given name has got me to a point and I’m now able to enact my self-autonomy and choose the name I want moving forward.

• The fatigue of my name being mispronounced is extremely deep, real, and pervasive.

My challenges 

• There’s copious evidence and brain research that illustrates how hearing the sound of your name activates your brain more than almost any other input. Most people love hearing their names, but I’ve hated hearing mine my entire life – even from my closest family members.

• At every age – including today – I’ve had a difficult time correcting other people when they say Aryenish incorrectly because I knew it’d make them feel awkward and I knew they weren’t intentionally trying to harm me. 

• For the most part I know people are making an honest mistake so I just told myself to suck it up. But now I know I was prioritizing the needs and perceived importance of other people over myself and not letting the impact of that carelessness be known as pain inside me. 

• When I tried to correct people for saying my name incorrectly, I did a lot to make them feel as comfortable as possible, and I’d make jokes at my expense or downplay my feelings. 

• More often than not, people would center their guilt of saying my name incorrectly when I tried to correct them and this built resentment and fatigue in me.

• I know Amruza will still present similar challenges; however, I’ve developed a resilience to confront this because there is one right way to say it and it’s a name I’ve chosen.

The power of names

• A person's name is one of the most powerful connections they have to their own identity and individuality. Names are our labels; they’re a shorthand for everything we are and stand for. 

• They’re how we get someone's attention and can indicate a sign of courtesy.

• Names are given to us before we’re born – or on our first few days of life – which means they often can’t capture the person who we become as our life unfolds.

• Changing your name is one of the most powerful acts of affirming your identity.

• Because names define who we are, we should be able to own that – renaming yourself creates space for self-exploration and self-expression.

• Names are relational. They communicate the message: this is how I want you to refer to me. When you change your name it becomes more active and less passive.

• Names can also be aspirational. Amruza represents the life changes I’m working to manifest.

• When names are a stumbling block they create distance and a lack of connection.

• Repeatedly saying someone’s name incorrectly (or avoiding saying their name) is stripping them of an important part of their identity.

• Asking someone if they have a nickname so you can feel more comfortable is deeply disrespectful and can be humiliating.

Fears 

• This process has brought up lots of discomfort and fear in me. I refrained from making this change for several reasons including I worried my parents might feel a sense of rejection. I know they were intentional in choosing Aryenish and I didn’t want to cause them pain. I also feared they wouldn’t like the name Amruza.

• I’ve feared losing parts of myself that I like or parts of my history that I want to honor.

• I worry I’m asking too much of others to use Amruza. 

• I never, ever feel that way when someone else changes their name but I’ve had to work through the (false) belief that I don’t deserve to love my name. I’ve had to work through the feeling that I’m asking too much of people to use a new name for me — even the people I know love me the most.

• As I approached announcing my new name, I noticed I had stalled for several months because of the attachment I naturally have to the name I’ve used for 36 years.

• Because you can’t really “test” a name, I’ve feared questions like: “What if Amruza isn’t actually me?” “How will I know if Amruza is a name I’ll love for the rest of my life?” 

• I’ve feared the confusion I’ll cause people by changing my name. 

• I’ve feared losing some of my online presence, especially with my past work that lives on the internet.

My process to get to Amruza

• I’ve been thinking about this topic my whole life, with ever more intensity over the last 15 years, and even more in the last two. I dug deep into the question, “What might be lost by changing my name?” I decided I didn’t want to totally abandon my birth name so I made Aryenish my middle name.

• I didn’t want to choose a new name that’s anglicized. I did not want a name that allowed me to assimilate or that would even be perceived as assimilation.

• As I was researching different names, I considered getting input from people on the name itself so that I could think about it from multiple angles and get feedback. However, I decided that this process was just about me and so I didn’t share it with anyone until I was 99% certain that Amruza was the name I wanted. 

• I took several months once I decided on Amruza to sit quietly with it by myself. I called myself Amruza while doing solo activities like driving and showering to see how it felt inside my body and I listened closely to what came up inside me.

• I spent time creating art with this name.

• It’s impossible to know how you’re really going to feel about a name before others use it so I asked my partner to start using it several months ago.

• I held a naming ceremony for myself which included a few things including on seed paper, writing a list of: hopes for the future, personal commitments, what I’m grateful for, and things I’m proud of myself for achieving and then burying it 

  I took several weeks to write this document and it was a powerful way to get more connected to Amruza. It also allowed me to commemorate what I’ve been through and thought about.

My naming criteria 

• I was grateful to have had clarity throughout the entire process on my criteria as I was searching for my name. I wanted my new name to:

• Communicate my Zoroastrian lineage, a name from the Indo-Iranian tradition, which my birth name comes from

• Start with an “a” because my current name does and I love my initials: AB

• Have a “y” or “z” in it because my current name has a y, or z because that’s one of the most common/identifying letters in Parsi names

• Be unique

• Have a powerful meaning or be a name I make up

• Have at least 1-2 other letters from my given name as a way to maintain connection with it

• Sound pretty to my ears

• Look pretty to my eyes (when I read it) 

• Avoid anglicizicing, and even the perception of it

• Have my mom and dad’s blessing

Why Amruza 

• I’m at a point and period in my life where I want to actively choose who I want to be and how I move through life. I’m calling in new beginnings and so while I’ve thought about changing my name for a long time, this moment feels perfect.

• I love that I created it.

• I was looking for Farsi words and stumbled upon “emruz” which means “today.”

• Ruz (pronounced like the word ruse in English) means “day”

• Em means “this” in this context

• “Am” is actually used in Farsi as shorthand for “hastam” which means “I am”

• For example, “narahat” means upset – “narahat hastam” is a formal way to say “I am upset,” but informally you’d say “narahatam”

• I added the “a” at the end as an homage to my beloved Rihana (my soul dog), as one more way to always keep her with me (I originally thought of using just Amruz).

• I love the meaning “I am today” because:

• I’ve struggled with my place on this earth, so this name reminds me that I’m surviving

• Being present is one of the most important qualities I’m working to integrate into my daily life, it’s the antidote to so much of my suffering 

• Amruza feels aspirational, while also serving as a reminder 

• Side note: I love my last name. People often ask me if it’s real and it is. I feel like my last name is absolutely perfect for me and I wanted to feel that joy with my first name too.

Additional resources

• If you don’t know how to pronounce someone’s name just ask! It’s always best to ask than guess and say it wrong – don’t be embarrassed. It’s OK if you have to ask more than once how to say someone’s name.

• And if someone corrects you, thank them. Remember, it’s on you to say someone else’s name correctly.

• Getting it right; why pronouncing names correctly matters TEDx; Gerardo Ochoa (13 minutes)

• This brilliant TED talk goes into four ways people respond to mispronouncing your name. Which one are you? (I’ve experienced each and every one of these at least 500 times each).

• Calibrator: The person who will slow down, listen carefully, and attempt to say your name. They may get it wrong, but they’ll keep trying until they get it, even if it’s a day later – they may even double-check that they’re still saying it right weeks later. Always strive to be a calibrator.

• Fumble mumbler: The person who fumbles to try and get your name right, they’re nervous and settle for a close approximation of your name.

• Arrogant mangler: This person doesn’t care to get your name right. They’re oblivious to the fact that they mispronounced it, and if you try to correct them, they’ll continue to use whatever name they gave you.

• Evader: The person who wants to avoid using your name altogether.

• When I introduce myself, they say things like “Do you have a nickname?” or “I’m never going to be able to say that!” or “Can I just call you XXX?” – they do whatever they can to avoid needing to say your name altogether which creates a feeling of invisibility. 

• You will make mistakes — it’s what you do after the mistake that matters most

• 3 tips on what to do when you mispronounce someone’s name:

• Humble yourself, don’t center yourself 

• Ask for help

• Acknowledge that you can’t pronounce it

• Know it’s okay that the other person sees you struggling 

• When you see someone else say another person’s name incorrectly, be an active bystander and help correct them, it helps lighten the burden 

• Do something, but don’t be arrogant 

• It’s important that you try — until you succeed — to say someone’s name how they ask you to say it

• Do not try to change someone else’s name or offer a nickname if you’re first meeting them 

• Code Switch: Comics Maz Jobrani and Aparna Nancherla On Their 'Difficult' Names NPR (24 minutes)

• They discussed the feeling I’ve had my whole life that my name was an imposition and hearing it said correctly was an unreasonable ask of people. 

• When power dynamics are present e.g. like with a funder or my boss, I’d refrain from correcting a mispronunciation even though it’s my name (!!).

• Why it’s hard to correct folks who’ve been saying your name incorrectly for years

• I learned about this study that found that people with “difficult to pronounce names” are seen as less trustworthy.

• The racist practice of mispronouncing names KUOW (14 minutes)

• This NPR affiliate articulated so much of what I’ve felt about my name over the years, but was unable to find words for. If you’ve struggled with feeling uncomfortable with your name this is a poignant listen.

• Key & Peele - Substitute Teacher (3 minutes)

• An absolutely hilarious take on pretty much every time roll call occurred from 1st- 12th grade. Watching this was extremely cathartic (which is why I’ve watched it 20+ times) – every time I think, “I wish I had this teacher.” LOL