Ah, the joys of being an international student. The excitement of new cultures, new people and new… names. If you’ve ever traveled abroad or lived in a country far from home, you know that one of the first “obstacles” you’ll face is the pronunciation of your name. It’s almost as if your name, which you’ve carried with pride all your life, suddenly morphs into a tongue-twister. And it’s no surprise—your name probably didn’t come with an English pronunciation guide.

We’ve all been there, right? The internal acceptance that your name will be butchered the minute someone attempts to say it in a foreign land. And you’re prepared for it. You either a) decide to make life easier for everyone by shortening your name to something more “universal,” or b) embark on a small crusade to educate the masses on the beauty of your name. There’s something oddly empowering about seeing people struggle through syllables and then slowly learn to pronounce them perfectly. But we’re getting ahead of ourselves. Let’s zoom out a bit.

Here’s the thing: names are not just names. They’re like those invisible threads that tie you back to your roots, your family and your history. And when you move countries, these threads start to feel a little… loose. You know they’re there, but you can’t quite tug on them the same way. And so begins the process of name rebranding.

Take my case. The moment I set foot on American soil, I was handed a nickname. It happened so fast, that I didn’t even have time to object. It was Shah. Just Shah. Simple. Clean. No pronunciation struggle. A name that could fit into any conversation without an awkward pause. It was easy. It was new. It was… fun. And so, I adopted it. After all, college is the place where we re-invent ourselves, right? Who needs all that baggage from home when you can build an entirely new identity? So, I let “Shah” take over. Goodbye, complicated syllables; hello, convenience.

Recently, someone asked me the meaning of my actual name—Shaheryar. At that moment, I felt it. That little tug. The one where I realized, in all my “Shah” glory, I had almost forgotten the significance of my name. And not just forgotten—it was slipping away. That long, hard-to-pronounce name wasn’t just a string of letters to me. It was a story, a legacy, a piece of home. And here I was, happily trading it in for a nickname that I didn’t even know the meaning of. Talk about a “who am I?” moment.

Now, don’t get me wrong. There’s nothing wrong with having a nickname. But here’s the thing: when we adjust our names to fit into a new culture, we might just be losing a part of ourselves. You might say, “But Shah, it’s not that deep.” And I get it. It’s not always about holding onto a name just for the sake of it. But sometimes, it’s about remembering who you are and where you came from.

This dilemma isn’t unique to me. Immigrants and international students around the world face this struggle. We arrive with names that are rich with meaning, culture and history, only to see them morph into a watered-down version of their former selves. And that’s not even the worst part! It’s the internal conflict of letting go that’s really the kicker. It’s the silent question of, “Am I too different now?” as we slip into a new identity.

But here’s a little reminder to all of us—no matter how easy it is to shorten our names or adapt them to a new world, don’t completely let go of who you are. You might find it amusing or convenient at the moment, but eventually, your real name is going to be like that old photo album you find buried in a drawer: sentimental, valuable and a reminder of everything you’ve ever been.

And to everyone who’s ever made the effort to learn someone’s name (yes, even the ones with the tricky phonetics), kudos to you. It really does matter. Names hold stories, after all. A little effort doesn’t just make a difference—it creates a connection, an impact, a memory. And we all deserve to be remembered in the way we were meant to be.

So, to my fellow name-benders out there, remember this: it’s okay to shorten, adapt or give a nickname a try. But don’t forget the original. Your name isn’t just something your parents decided to call you one day. It’s your identity, your story and it deserves to be celebrated. Hold onto it, even when the world around you is trying to simplify it. You’ll thank yourself later.