Ali, Ali, bo Bali,
Banana-fana fo Fali,
Fe fi fo Mali,
OMG that song has been stuck in my head since they did it on American Horror Story a couple weeks ago. Damn you Jessica Lange!
Anyway, there it is. The new name. Which is actually the old name, truth be told. During the bad times when I was hiding and shaming, I’d occasionally play some game or other with a female avatar or character. They’d always be redheads, and they’d always have some variation of the name Ali. I don’t know why; I don’t particularly like the name, and it annoys me that it can be confused with the Arabic male name Ali, and I can’t decide yet if it’s short for Alison or Alice. But when I’m not actively thinking about it, when I just offhandedly and casually think of myself in the feminine, Ali is the name I use for myself.
I’ve tried playing with the spelling — Ally, Allie, Alli — but Ali is the one that feels right, like the name itself. It may not be the feminine name I’d have chosen, but it’s the name that’s chosen me. It’s the one my heart identifies with. So I’ve decided to just get over it and embrace it.
I’m Ali. Pleased to meet you.