I’m so tired of thinking about my name.
So tired, in fact, that I’ve had to get creative in my quest to change it.
I’ve begun to use my first name, Beryl, for myself and my children.
I’m calling it Beryl Berry, a name that I hope will help people understand that my name isn’t my first choice.
I know there are other names that might be more fitting for me, but I wanted Beryl to be the first choice that would help people see that I’m the person I’ve always wanted to be.
And I’m grateful for that choice.
My parents chose Beryl for me.
I was born in 1966.
I love my family.
I am a proud member of the Beryl community.
When I started to think about my family names, I began to realize that they are an important part of my identity.
I realized that they will never change because they are who I am.
When my mother said she loved me, she didn’t mean it in a sexual sense.
She meant it in an emotional sense.
Her words told me that she loved the way I was and wanted to help me live in the way that she wanted me to.
I wanted to give her that, and I wanted her to know that I loved her.
It’s what she taught me.
My name is Beryl.
And for the first time, I’m proud of who I was.
Beryl has a name, too.
When people ask me if I am the name I was meant to be, I can’t answer that.
The word Beryl is my birth name.
But my parents have changed my name a lot over the years.
They took Beryl and changed it to Beryl Beryl in honor of my great-grandfather, George Beryl Smith, who was a founding member of a large American coal company.
My mother had Beryl before her, too, and when my mother was in college, she changed Beryl into Beryl M.M. because she was studying at Brown University.
I always thought Beryl was an attractive name for a girl.
I liked the word Bish and liked the spelling Beryl—and I thought Bish was a name we would always use.
But the name Beryl changed to Bish as a child.
I thought that was weird, because I’m a boy.
I mean, why would a name change to a male name?
The fact that I now have a male birth name also meant that the name that came before it was never the name my parents chose for me as a girl and that I had to change to fit in with the gender stereotypes of boys.
I had a hard time trying to change my name because my family had always taught me that I would never be happy with my name unless I chose to be a girl, and my family always believed that I was the only girl in the world.
So the last thing I wanted was to feel like I wasn’t welcome in the Bish family, and so I kept Bish.
I changed my birth family’s name to Basha and I’ve lived as Basha for my entire life.
The name Basha was chosen because my mother and grandmother had a son named Basha Basha.
Basha, like many other names in the area, is derived from a Native American word for “woman.”
Basha is a name you would recognize if you know the name “Basha,” which means “beautiful.”
When I was a little girl, my family’s traditional name was Basha M.B. and my mother’s family’s is Basha T.B., but I decided to keep Basha because I wanted a name for my daughter that I could feel proud of and would help her live up to her potential.
So I kept my birth mother’s name.
Bisha was the name of the first person in the family who spoke my mother tongue, and Bisha means “strong.”
The name of my grandmother was Bisha T.S., and she came from a large, powerful family in the town of Cresson, South Dakota, which includes Cressons city of Custer.
My family came from the town in the South Dakota Indian country where I grew up, and the name Custer is the name we call our home.
Bish means “behold.”
The first person my family called me was Bish, the name for our ancestors, but they never called me by that name.
It wasn’t until my early 20s, however, that my mother called me Bish because she thought I had the potential to be an incredible person.
I didn’t know it at the time, but my name came from my grandmother.
When she died, my mother made Bish her own name.
When Bish first came to me, I felt so strongly that my family would always call me Bisha