During middle school, I briefly lived in a small little town that had a population of less than 1,500 people, in which 90.9% of that population was white, and the asian population was less than .5%. It remains the same to this day. Nobody in the entire town, except for my family knew how to pronounce my name, and at the age of 11, all I wanted to do was fit in. My friends stuttered over my name, and teachers asked if I had a nickname they could call me by instead.
So that’s when the name Emily came to be. I remember brainstorming with my friends on a name that would be easier to say for them. Eventually, it caught on, and people happily referred to me as Emily.
My story is not unique. Many third culture kids change the pronunciation of their name so it fits better in the mouth of those who claim it’s too difficult to say.
As an 11 year old, it was easier to accommodate to what others wanted, rather than stay true to myself. When you’re the only brown kid in the entire school, you do what you can to blend in. I don’t blame middle school me for wanting that.
Fast forward to today, and Emily stuck. It became easier to introduce myself as Emily in the line at Starbucks, it was faster to say “You can call me Emily” than to have the back and forth exchange with people who couldn’t pronounce two syllables. It became second nature. I didn’t have to think twice about it. My closest friends called me by my real name, and those I’m not very close with, called me Emily. This was my norm, until these two parties crossed and I had to explain myself to both of them.
I understand why 11 year old me felt it was necessary to make this change. I even understand why 18 year old me felt it was too late to go back to my real name, even though Emily never felt true to myself. I get why 22 year old version of me thought going by Emily would increase my chances of landing job interviews. I didn’t want HR recruiters to glaze over my resume if my name felt foreign to them. I forgive myself for changing who I am to make others feel comfortable, I was just trying to survive in the best way I knew at that time.
With all of that being said, 24 year old me is over it. I’m no longer changing who I am to make others feel more comfortable. I don’t want to survive anymore. I want to live.
So, let me re-introduce myself. My name is Emel. It’s spelled with an E but pronounced with an A. Think of Abel but replace the B with an M. It requires you to slow down and speak my name softly. My name is worth the extra two seconds of effort it’ll take you to speak it. Take the time to learn it, because I’m no longer accepting any less.
As Hasan Minhaj put it recently on The Ellen DeGeneres Show, if ya’ll can say Timothée Chalamet and Arnold Schwarzenegger, ya’ll can say my name.
So, say my name. It’s Emel. Aye-mul. It’s Turkish. It means desire. It’s beautiful and it’s mine.
