The Name That Wasn't Mine
A refusal to surrender to overwhelming circumstances
Category: Uncategorized
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Chapter 5, Somewhere to Land, is a deeply moving exploration of what it means to feel safe for the first time—and how complicated that safety can be. In this chapter, the narrator steps into a new home, a place that should feel comforting, but instead sparks a confusing mix of fear, gratitude, and longing. One of…
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When I sat down to write The Name That Wasn’t Mine, I didn’t do it for accolades, attention, or even closure. I wrote it for the people who matter most to me—my wife and our three beautiful children. For most of my life, identity felt fragile, like a name that could be given, taken, or rewritten…
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It’s strange, sitting here and putting pieces of my life into words. Some of these memories are ones I’ve carried for years without speaking out loud. Others are moments I thought I’d forgotten, but they come rushing back when I least expect it—like the faint smell of a place you haven’t been in decades. When…
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There are moments in life when you walk into a place that should feel like home—but it doesn’t. Chapter 4 of The Name That Wasn’t Mine takes me back to one of those moments. Standing on my grandparents’ porch, seeing my mother for the first time in what felt like forever, I was met not with warmth,…
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Some things never leave you. Not because they’re beautiful or important, but because they hurt in ways you can’t explain. For me, it was a jar of red licorice. I didn’t eat it then, and I still can’t stand the smell of it now. It doesn’t remind me of candy or childhood. It reminds me…
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When I was a child, I thought I was bad. Not just misbehaving or difficult—I mean bad to the core, rotten in a way that made sense of the things that were happening to me and my sisters. It’s strange how early that belief takes root. Before you even understand what abuse is, before you know…
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There’s a question that lingers quietly beneath the surface of so many of our lives: Who am I, really? Not the name on our birth certificate, not the roles we’ve been handed—but the raw, unfiltered truth of who we are beneath it all. Chapter One of my memoir, The Name That Wasn’t Mine, opens with this exact question.…
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When I sit down to write, I find myself circling the same question:Who are we—really—at our core? Is identity something we inherit? Is it etched into our DNA, handed down through bloodlines and trauma like some kind of unwelcome heirloom? Or are we shaped—entirely—by the hands that raise us, the walls that contain us, and…
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Welcome to The Name That Wasn’t Mine — A Journey in Progress Thank you for stopping by. This space is where I’ll be sharing updates as I continue writing The Name That Wasn’t Mine, my memoir about childhood, trauma, identity, and the slow, fragile work of becoming someone new. This isn’t just a book—it’s a lived experience laid…
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The Name That Wasn't Mine 