National Coming Out Day is always a bit strained for me. Partially because of my own hangups, and partially because of how “coming out” is framed in a lot of mainstream discussion.
So. Hi. I’ve been gone for a bit. Some of that was because I got a fellowship, and then a job, and was doing more freelance writing. And in the last few months, it’s been because some pretty heavy stuff has been going down in my personal life that has […]
I kept my name when I got married. I refuse to call it my maiden name. It is my name.
A conversation about blackness, ethnicity, nationality, and identity.
As we began planning a wedding and a life together, we kept coming back what to do about our last names.
Having people see you the way you want to be seen – the way you see yourself – is a privilege. Without it, every day is a battle to have your identity validated, a battle against erasure and for self-determination.
The power of my own quest for authenticity may be my greatest lesson to impart as a parent.
I had grown into my name, and it suited me. Trust, however, that had I found a better name along the way, I would have snapped it up in a heartbeat, and to hell with anyone who judged me for doing so.
I’m attached to my name because of the stories that come with it and because of the perspective they’ve given me on the world.