In an attempt to share more of myself with y’all, I’m going to tell you #WhatMyNameMeans. Feel free to join me in this!!

I’ve held four (4) names throughout my life. In this thread, let me tell you about them

Upon finishing this thread, I’m coming back up here to let y’all know that this has turned into a short essay about my examination of self, of change, and what it means to Belong somewhere.

Names are Identity. Allow me to tell you about mine.

#WhatMyNameMeans

I don’t remember the first name I had. It was whispered to me the day I was born by a mother I never knew. A couple days later, she left me at the gates of a middle school in a box. My memories of my name left with her.

#WhatMyNameMeans

There’s a chance she never gave me one. There’s a chance she just left me without looking back. But I choose forgetfulness. I’m sure you can understand why.

I didn’t belong there. I wasn’t WANTED. Being rejected at birth does a number on your self esteem.

#WhatMyNameMeans

There’s so much I don’t know. The day on which I was born remains a mystery. When they found me, they guessed. I have no family, no medical history. Having to write “I don’t know” on form after form while growing up contributed to my yearning for a tangible identity. To BELONG.

On a more surface level amount of selfishness, I’ve never been able to participate in those ‘rising/falling’ star sign things. They’re divisive, sure, but I feel like I can’t participate in that part of queer culture. Again, “I don’t know.”

#WhatMyNameMeans

After no one claimed me, I was transferred to an orphanage in a city 4 hours away from the island on which I was born.

湛江 (Zhanjiang)— my second home, and where I was given my second name.

My caretakers at the orphanage named me 国玉桃 (Guo Yutao).

In China, the family name is the most important because *family* is important. That’s why it comes first. But I had no family.

#WhatMyNameMeans

It was the last name given to all the kids at my orphanage. It means ‘country,’ as we belonged to China itself. We had no families, and no family name to carry on.

Guo was but a barcode, a label.

#WhatMyNameMeans

Yutao means Jade Peach. They said I was as rare as a jade and precious as a peach. We were taken care of there. I got the chance to go back and visit my orphanage. I could tell they truly loved the children under their care. But kids don’t belong in an orphanage

#WhatMyNameMeans

8 months later, I was adopted by a couple in the United States, and given a new name along with my new citizenship: an American one.

My mother was raised in Hawai’i, and my father, the son of Chinese immigrants. I don’t “look” adopted, because my parents are both asian.

They say names are a prayer for everything parents want their child to become.

My first name was Hawaiian, meaning beautiful, evoking the Sun’s rays breaking over a horizon. My middle name was French, a tribute to my Dad’s love for French cooking.

#WhatMyNameMeans

I finally had an identity. I had a name. I had a family. I had a home. But something still felt off.

I remember wondering which of these names, if any, was really MINE. 国玉桃 was half of me, my Chinese half, and my given name was my American half.

Where did I truly belong?

As I was entering high school, I was struggling a lot with identity. I needed change. I wanted to finally claim something for myself. So, I took my given name and twisted it around, renaming myself Nala.

This is my fourth name.

#WhatMyNameMeans

Once I got to college, I realized I was trans. I had felt a huge disconnect throughout high school between my deadname and Nala, and now I knew why.

You may be wondering about Jae. It’s short for Jaedyn— I knew I wanted to replace my middle name eventually...

#WhatMyNameMeans

...because I wanted my name, on paper, to not read immediately as Female. Nala, as much as I love the name, is very feminine. So, I chose Jaedyn as a nod to my Chinese name. Jaden Smith exists, so I decided to go with a different, more unique spelling.

#WhatMyNameMeans

I like Nala though. It means Successful.

Names are a prayer for everything you want your child to become.

I desire to become *someone* someday. Being able to come to America, I’ve been told, was a Blessing. America is the land of opportunity, where anyone can become *someone.*

I know now that it’s much more complicated than that. The false hopeful statements spoken by a White majority rang loud in my thoughts as I grew up.

I am Lucky, they said. All it takes is hard work, they said. But I grew up. I got educated.

The American Dream is a sham.

I will have to work twice as hard, twice as long, and prove myself time and time again before I can be successful. I will be underestimated, overshadowed, and sidelined.

My work ethic is as strong as I am resilient. Yet the inequality looms.

As I got to know myself, I kept wondering where I fit in. Am I truly American? The country I call home is run by people who don’t think people like me should exist.

I am queer. I am trans. I am adopted. I am Chinese. And I am JUST as American as anyone else.

Being able to rename myself was a powerful experience. As someone who has been struggling with identity my entire life, it feels good to be able to have something that is MINE. Not a gift, not forgotten, but truly and wholly MINE.

Nala Jaedyn Wu.

#WhatMyNameMeans