The World Made Me Hate My Name
and I refuse to let them continue.
I've been taught to hate my name.
My name spelled T-A-T-Y-A-H-N-A, pronounced like you say “Tatiana”.
I spent my whole life with it being mistaken for other things. Teachers mispronouncing it and people shortening it. I even began to learn my order in roll call at school enough to interrupt substitutes with a quick “here”. A tactic to avoid the way they tripped over the syllables and “unexpected” letters in my name, while also knowing they weren’t going to trip over names like Dostoyevsky or Descartes. All in hopes that I would not be the laughing stock of the day with whatever they wanted to make up for my name that day.
But I didn't know I hated my name until a couple days ago despite knowing the intricacies of the way racism works. Despite the way I would encourage others to correct people when they got their name wrong or gave them an unwanted nickname. I knew how to advocate for and love everyone else’s name but my own. And it's just fascinating the mirror we can hold to other people's brilliance but can't somehow see our own.
I even think about the family I grew up in and the way they never said my name like I was worth something. So instead I learned to love nicknames because loving my name wasn't an option. I've grown to diminish myself. I've grown to let people have excuses to not say my name. Everyone was set on getting it wrong even when I would tell them anyway. Hell friends I had for years still spelled it wrong. What could I hold a stranger to if even my friends could not get it right?
And so the more and more I come back to myself, I keep thinking about my name. Don’t get me wrong, Rox is not bad to call me. I think it is hot and sexy and fun but Tatyahna is Powerful and I want that back. I want people to know me. I love that my name is not common. I love that when I create anything like a Gmail or some random username on a social media, it's often not taken. I love that there's a “y” in the middle of my name because I think y’s look lovely in cursive. And while I don't actually know a life where most people are getting my name correct but I'm learning to love it.
So, I changed my substack and I changed my Instagram. I probably will start using both Rox and Tatyahna. And I will do the gender thing where I go from she/her to she/they and then they/she etc…(if you get it you get it). A part of this does feel embarrassing for some reason. Reminds me of my depression apology train after I isolated from people that I love trying to survive. I think it’s embarrassing knowing how much racism I have internalized when people always have expected me to be above such oppressive systems. Having a substack and admitting these things, feels like a fall from grace for not just others in terms of their perception of me but also for myself.
Nonetheless, I'm looking forward to hearing people say my name, the one my grandma gave to me and how powerful is that alone? I'm excited about the transition. I think it will be beautiful, and I look forward to correcting people on how to say my name.





The truth is they’re just jealous because they have to put numbers at the end of their usernames. It’s giving very common. (But for real, very happy for you, very happy the cutie baby has such a good advocate)
There is so much power in your name!!
, thank you for stepping into it even when it’s scary 🫂