There’s something quietly profound about naming yourself. Not out of vanity or reinvention, but as an act of recognition — of finally meeting yourself where you’ve been becoming all along. For most of us, our first name is a gift. It’s the language our parents used to announce us to the world. A name carries their hopes, their histories, and sometimes, their unspoken expectations. Mine did too. I wore it with gratitude for many years. It shaped me, and in some ways, protected