When safety stops being a concept and becomes a feeling—Jay’s Pride Month essay explores naming, belonging, and the journey to inner truth and self-recognition.
Lady Libertea — I am deeply moved by your words and accept them with gratitude. I know they come from a place of genuine appreciation. It means much to me when what I write resonates this way. And yes, to reclaim language—through name, through voice—is a path I will keep walking. I am glad you walk here alongside us.
There’s so much power in names…especially ones we choose ourselves. I chose Victus for my pen name because it means “living or way of life,” and I’m now brave enough to choose the life that I want to live, for me.
Thank you for sharing your evolution with us, in name and your spirit…that picture really captures the pride & joy in you!
Marisa, what a powerful choice—to claim Victus not just as a name, but as a declaration of your way of life. There’s such grounded strength in choosing a name that aligns with the life you want to live, especially when that choice is rooted in self-honoring. Thank you for stepping in, reading and commenting. I appreciate you. xo Jay
My Chinese name originally meant a precious stone. Then it got simplified into a road. Combined with my family name (we write it first, not last), my name means “China Road” or “Glorious/Flowery Road.” When transliterated into English, it became “Loo” = toilet. Yuck!
Then in British colonial-era school, I got the Anglicized name Louisa. It represents an official side of me—that part that has been colonized, that strives to please and perform for success. It sits above, not inside, my skin.
At home, they all call me “Little Sister.” The older I get, the more cringed I feel about this nickname. It represents the lowest rung of the patriarchal family hierarchy. I’m expected to play subservient and submissive, putting myself last.
Here on Substack, I’m known as Lily, from Lily Pond! I’ve grown to like it because the folks who call me by this name have become my favorite people—intellectually curious and emotionally expansive.
Now that I’ve come out as queer, I don’t know yet what name would allow me to feel “home.”
What if I reinterpret my Chinese name? Road can mean path… a path less traveled, unique and forged by me. I will brew on the concept and maybe one day a new name will be born. It’s all part of the process of my Becoming.
I love this mini story. As others have said, you do a really beautiful job of encapsulating so much here - cultural nicknames, the pressure to Anglicize, how names shift and change in different cultures. Also: the idea that your imperfect name "sits above, not inside, my skin" is gorgeous 🥰 thank you for sharing.
Hi Hannah! Thank you so much for reading my mini story. Writing it has unearthed many hidden emotions in me. It's fascinating how names shape and change us!
Lily, I’m so grateful you joined this creative challenge—and especially that you offered something this layered, reflective, and personal.
What you’ve shared here speaks to so many forces shaping how we’re named: colonial structures, linguistic distortion, family hierarchy, and chosen community.
The movement from precious stone to road to toilet… and from Louisa to “Little Sister” to Lily—it’s not just linguistic; it maps a journey of identity through expectation, pressure, erasure, and self-discovery. And the way you hold each of those meanings with curiosity, not just pain, is powerful. That line—“It sits above, not inside, my skin”—stays with me.
Your idea of reinterpreting the “road” in your Chinese name into a path you forge for yourself—yes. That feels alive. And entirely yours.
Thank you for bringing your Becoming into #PrideOnThePage. I hope this space continues to meet you with resonance and reflection.
Jay, I so appreciate how you saw the pattern behind this evolution of my names--how my name "Road" actually signifies the arduous journey of finding my true identity. I love how you used these words to succinctly summary my experience--expectation, pressure, erasure, and self-discovery.
And I love this space you have created for us to reflect and to forge our own path toward our self-discovery and reclamation of our Pride! 🌈🤗❤️🩷🧡💛💚💙💜
Hi Jay, I really enjoyed reading about the evolution of your names and their underlying meanings. This is so rich! I also love your photo, carrying the pride flag with so much joy and pride!!!
I will write about the stories of my names (Chinese and English) and share when I'm ready.
Jay, your words here are beautiful.
To reclaim your name with such passion—both naming yourself and finding purpose in that act—is powerful.
What I love about every single post you share is the poetry you bring.
I love language—truly—in all its forms and facets, and I often find myself a bit wordy.
While I deeply respect poetry, it remains a form that often eludes me.
And yet you accomplish it—daily—with such grace and mastery.
As always, thank you for your voice and for creating this space.
Lady Libertea — I am deeply moved by your words and accept them with gratitude. I know they come from a place of genuine appreciation. It means much to me when what I write resonates this way. And yes, to reclaim language—through name, through voice—is a path I will keep walking. I am glad you walk here alongside us.
There’s so much power in names…especially ones we choose ourselves. I chose Victus for my pen name because it means “living or way of life,” and I’m now brave enough to choose the life that I want to live, for me.
Thank you for sharing your evolution with us, in name and your spirit…that picture really captures the pride & joy in you!
Marisa, what a powerful choice—to claim Victus not just as a name, but as a declaration of your way of life. There’s such grounded strength in choosing a name that aligns with the life you want to live, especially when that choice is rooted in self-honoring. Thank you for stepping in, reading and commenting. I appreciate you. xo Jay
Thanks so much, Jay. Here’s to being our authentic selves! 🙌
Marisa, to our authentic selves!
My Chinese name originally meant a precious stone. Then it got simplified into a road. Combined with my family name (we write it first, not last), my name means “China Road” or “Glorious/Flowery Road.” When transliterated into English, it became “Loo” = toilet. Yuck!
Then in British colonial-era school, I got the Anglicized name Louisa. It represents an official side of me—that part that has been colonized, that strives to please and perform for success. It sits above, not inside, my skin.
At home, they all call me “Little Sister.” The older I get, the more cringed I feel about this nickname. It represents the lowest rung of the patriarchal family hierarchy. I’m expected to play subservient and submissive, putting myself last.
Here on Substack, I’m known as Lily, from Lily Pond! I’ve grown to like it because the folks who call me by this name have become my favorite people—intellectually curious and emotionally expansive.
Now that I’ve come out as queer, I don’t know yet what name would allow me to feel “home.”
What if I reinterpret my Chinese name? Road can mean path… a path less traveled, unique and forged by me. I will brew on the concept and maybe one day a new name will be born. It’s all part of the process of my Becoming.
I love this mini story. As others have said, you do a really beautiful job of encapsulating so much here - cultural nicknames, the pressure to Anglicize, how names shift and change in different cultures. Also: the idea that your imperfect name "sits above, not inside, my skin" is gorgeous 🥰 thank you for sharing.
Hannah, thank you so much for your generous comment to Lily. I am thrilled you read.
Hi Hannah! Thank you so much for reading my mini story. Writing it has unearthed many hidden emotions in me. It's fascinating how names shape and change us!
Lily, I’m so grateful you joined this creative challenge—and especially that you offered something this layered, reflective, and personal.
What you’ve shared here speaks to so many forces shaping how we’re named: colonial structures, linguistic distortion, family hierarchy, and chosen community.
The movement from precious stone to road to toilet… and from Louisa to “Little Sister” to Lily—it’s not just linguistic; it maps a journey of identity through expectation, pressure, erasure, and self-discovery. And the way you hold each of those meanings with curiosity, not just pain, is powerful. That line—“It sits above, not inside, my skin”—stays with me.
Your idea of reinterpreting the “road” in your Chinese name into a path you forge for yourself—yes. That feels alive. And entirely yours.
Thank you for bringing your Becoming into #PrideOnThePage. I hope this space continues to meet you with resonance and reflection.
Jay, I so appreciate how you saw the pattern behind this evolution of my names--how my name "Road" actually signifies the arduous journey of finding my true identity. I love how you used these words to succinctly summary my experience--expectation, pressure, erasure, and self-discovery.
And I love this space you have created for us to reflect and to forge our own path toward our self-discovery and reclamation of our Pride! 🌈🤗❤️🩷🧡💛💚💙💜
Lily, I am so glad my answer resonated with you. Glad to have you creating in PrideOnThePage and yes maybe evolve truth it.
Thank you for making me feel seen!
Hi Jay, I really enjoyed reading about the evolution of your names and their underlying meanings. This is so rich! I also love your photo, carrying the pride flag with so much joy and pride!!!
I will write about the stories of my names (Chinese and English) and share when I'm ready.
Lily thank for reading and no sharing and truly participating in this challenge.