Name Calling: The Renaming, Deadnaming, and Name Claiming of a Transgender Woman
Hearing people call you by your new name feels like floating, it’s an amazing feeling. The first time someone calls you by your old name when they know your new name however, that feels like a punch in the gut.
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Hi — my name is Nia. Nia wasn’t always my name, though you may have guessed that based on the title of this article. Picking out a new name is a big deal for a transgender person. It’s a moment in time when we get to control what happens next, and most of us don’t take it lightly.
For me, it was a struggle. Should I start new and fresh with a name that has no relation to my old one so I can leave that behind? Or do I include some reference to my past, understanding that my past contributed to who I am in the present? For me choosing a name meant including an homage to my past.
I want to make a quick note here. Many trans and non-binary individuals want nothing to do with their past. When they change their name, they want to leave their old life behind and that is completely valid. Just as valid as it was for me to include a part of my past into my narrative going forward.
I felt like I had lived a relatively authentic life, (as much as I could have up to that point being a closeted trans woman), and I wanted to include that story going forward. For me that meant choosing a name that was a derivative of a family name that was originally passed down to me.
So I chose Nia because it represented all of me. But after I had chosen my name, I still wasn’t settled. There are so many names to choose from in the world. How do I know I had chosen the right one? I got my confirmation the first time I presented using my new name.
My wife and I were at a conference where we met Rev. Dr. Jacqui Lewis, Senior Minister at Middle Collegiate Church in New York City. When we spoke to her, my wife introduced me for the first time by my new name. Jacqui immediately said “Oh I love the name, purpose!” I was confused and she could tell.
“Nia means purpose in Swahili,” she said.
I almost broke down weeping right there. Before that moment, I was unsure, scared, and doubting my path and my new name. After that moment I was sure. My name is Nia.
But it wasn’t that easy.
As a trans person, once you are confident in your own name, it feels like you can take on the world. You go and tell people what your new name is (if you’re out) and you hope that people will respect it. Hearing people call you by your new name feels like floating, it’s an amazing feeling.
The first time someone calls you by your old name when they know your new name however, that feels like a punch in the gut. It’s also called deadnaming.
In case you are unfamiliar with the term deadnaming or need a refresher, Wikipedia is here to help:
“Deadnaming is the use of the birth or other former name (i.e. a name that is “dead”) of a transgender or non-binary person without their consent. Intentional deadnaming is sometimes used to “aggressively dismiss and reject” a gender identity and the name that accompanies it, and is considered by some as deeply disrespectful.”
There are many reasons people deadname transgender and non-binary individuals after a name change. The most common reasons are 1) they may be doing it on purpose to show they reject the individual’s new name and identity, or 2) they may be adjusting to the new name after possibly years of knowing the individual by the old name.
There are other reasons too, but these are the most common. From my experience, it also is fairly easy to distinguish between an intentional deadnaming and an unintentional deadnaming.
Although I was confident in my new name after I had found it, I wasn’t all the way out yet. I knew Nia was my name, but I lived with my old name each day, as do many who have renamed themselves but remain in the closet.
It popped up every time I used my credit card, pulled out my driver’s license, or paid a utility bill.¹
When I finally did get to tell other people my new name, and was able to switch all the legal documents, I was so happy.²
Most people got it right away. They switched from my deadname to Nia and never looked back. For some, it was harder. Whether it was the years of history between us, or that when people are stressed or scared they slip into their fight-or-flight lizard brain and grab whatever name is there and easiest, it has taken some people a longer time to catch on.
Then there’s those who want me to know they don’t respect me. They don’t accept the “new” me. They won’t call me by my name and in fact will deadname me on purpose, because their religion may tell them that if they don’t, they’ll be condoning something they don’t agree with.
Let me pause for a second. There are other reasons why someone might deadname you on purpose, aside from religious reasons, but for those doing it out of a devotion to their religion, specifically religions based on the Bible, I’d challenge them to think long and hard about that. Abram to Abraham, Sarai to Sarah, Saul to Paul and the list goes on and on. These name changes we accept as part of a new beginning for these characters and we should do the same for our trans sons, daughters, family and friends. But I digress.
When all is said and done, most people aren’t doing it on purpose. They aren’t doing it to be disrespectful or to show me that they don’t accept who I am. However, it doesn’t mean that it doesn’t hurt. As a trans person, coming out is saying, “here I am, this is me, see me!!!” And when I am deadnamed, the first thing I think is, “what am I doing wrong? Am I not presenting feminine enough? Why don’t they see me?”
In one quick moment, being deadnamed makes me feel like I’m not good enough…
That if I try harder, then they’ll see. But if the onus is on me to make them see, then I’ll start doing things that aren’t me to make them change their behavior.
As a trans woman, I may start wearing heavier makeup. I could start dressing like a 50’s housewife, feminine to the hilt, changing my mannerism more, changing my behavior to meet expectations. And yes, while I do like to dress up sometimes, and yes, I do wear makeup and like to cook, if I start doing these things to get other people to see me as a woman, I’ll lose myself in the process. And after finding myself after all these years, that would be a crying shame.
So now when someone deadnames me I simply claim my name and say “oh, it’s Nia.” If they haven’t done it on purpose, they’ll apologize profusely, and most likely have already corrected their mistake themselves before I had to.
If they did do it on purpose, they won’t care what I say. And for those people, unfortunately I’ve had to say goodbye for now. Out of respect for myself. Out of respect for my journey. Out of respect for them and their choices.
When I ask to be called by my name, just as I call everyone else by their name, and that isn’t honored, I have to hold a boundary. And that means possibly losing friends and loved ones, because I deserve to feel human, honored, loved and respected. We all do. And while it’s hard to hold this boundary in the face of purposeful deadnaming, I’ll keep saying it: my name is Nia, and I am worth it.
¹Mastercard just came out with a card called True Name for trans and non-binary folx who go by a different name than their legal name. This can alleviate the stress of seeing a deadname in the most simplest of tasks, like paying for gas. You can learn more about it here.
²Resources for changing documents in all 50 states can be found here at transequality.org.
