Sasha: Defender or helper of human kind.
Where did that name come from?
How did I come up with it?
These are three questions I get from people when I either come out to a friend or random people that ask on social media. I try my hardest to articulate the short version but there is so much more to the name and why I picked it. Being a transgender women I have held onto this name for dear life promising to never let it go! Being stuck in the closet you only have a few things that can give you comfort and Sasha gave me hope that someday I would be called by such a beautiful name.
Sasha, the name comes from Russia and was used as a gender neutral name that later turned into Alexandra and now days Alexandra is used more-so then Sasha. It gives such a pretty flowery warmness inside of me that I’m awestruck I get to use it out in the open now and people are calling me by Sasha. It brings tears to my eyes because a name is what you are given at birth weather you like it of not and is a powerful form of identity, my birth name has always bothered me. Looking at its meaning and looking at who I am it fits way too well because I’m a social justice warrior who wants human kind to succeed abundantly.
I picked it up randomly one of the days I was home “sick” from school and wearing my moms clothes along with the most elegant pair of red heels. I still remember the dress I wore when I picked Sasha, it was a white maxi dress with an absolutely stunning floral pattern with pinks, reds, oranges, and purples. I would always wear that dress because my mom never wore it and it was stored away which made it easier to put on and put away. Along with the floral maxi and red heels I’d wear the most lush lipstick my mom had, it became one of my main activities while alone to get my lipstick just perfect because I would fantasize about kissing boys as a girl and feel so warm and cozy inside. The day Sasha came out was a truly magical day, wearing the dress, the heels, my lips where perfect and as I walked over to the mirror Sasha came spilling out of my mouth like a calm soothing waterfall. I looked in the mirror with a sureness I had never seen in myself before and continued saying Sasha over and over again till I wept. I wept most of that day because I was so confused and so happy at the same time. I didn’t know how to express because every time my dad would see me tear up he would say, “boys don’t cry, now man up boy no tears.” So, I kept Sasha and that day inside hoping one day I would be able to release her fully.
Sasha would scream so loud inside of me that it would hurt and caused the most intense depression. She needed to be set free, she needed validation, and she escaped in probably the most beautiful way possible. My dead name, the name I really started to loathe last year (2017) is going to be nothing but a memory some day and I could not be happier about that!