A free write I did at the beginning of ninth grade, long before coming out as trans.

We had to write about our name.

“Jacquelyn Christine Ramirez. This is a forgotten ensemble of words. Coincidentally, this also happens to be my name. Even so, whenever I hear the word "Jacquelyn”, I cringe. I am not Jacquelyn. Jacquelyn is a label my parents gave me to differentiate me from the millions of other people in this world. This puzzles me. Jacquelyn does not describe me. Jacquelyn is elegant. Jacquelyn is formal. Jacquelyn is refined. Jacquelyn is graceful. Jacquelyn is “God’s Gracious Gift”, as a website once told me. This is not me. I am not Jacquelyn. I am informal. I am imperfect. I am clumsy. I don’t know if I can summarize this all into one word; a name that firs me. I’m still working on that, as are others, conjuring new nicknames for me. The closest I’ve come… Is Jackie.“

Except now I’m even closer with Jack.