Why I Changed My Name
Or rather, why I embraced an old one
If you follow me on social media, you probably noticed that I changed my name recently. I started going by my Hebrew name, Yardena (pronounced yaar-DEN-uh). As a baby, my parents gave me this name, and I've always loved it. Until now, I only used it in synagogue or other Jewish spaces. My Hebrew name was sacred, only to be used in ritual. Lately, though, I've been connecting to it more often. When I started writing professionally again, I wanted to use my Hebrew name as my pen name.
Those of you who know me as Jordyn can continue to call me by that name if you want. You can also switch to calling me Yardena. I still feel connected to my English name and don't want to throw it away entirely. I'm still unsure if I'll always introduce myself as Yardena. IÂ might be in some situations where Jordyn feels more natural.
I've been thinking about this decision for a few months now. Whenever I tried to decide whether I should change my name, though, anxiety took over, and my thoughts spiraled. I love both names and couldn't decide which one I wanted as my primary identifier. But eventually, I realized that I didn't have to choose. I can be both Jordyn and Yardena. These are my names; they belong to me. I can use them however I want, and other people's opinions don't really matter. That realization was a weight off my shoulders. It gave me the permission I was searching for.
In Judaism, names are sacred. We believe that the Hebrew name of a person or object is a conduit for divine energy. Our soul’s energy reaches us through our name, and in that way, names are more than identifiers. They’re little prophecies. It’s even said that parents receive a glimmer of divine inspiration when they give their children a Jewish name.
My secular name is Jordyn, so it made sense for my parents to call me Yardena in Hebrew. It’s a direct translation. My parents’ choice was more than practical, though. Many traditions surround the naming of a child in Judaism, including using a relative’s name. (Ashkenazi Jews, like my family, only name children after deceased relatives.) My parents chose to honor my mom’s aunt Jessie and my dad’s Papa Joe (whose Hebrew name was Yosef). Non-Jews are sometimes confused by this, but we believe that names that start with the same letter or have the same sound are close enough. So Jessie becomes Jordyn, and Yosef becomes Yardena.
My parents also chose to name me Yardena because this is the Hebrew name of the Jordan River. My parents liked the symbolism. They wanted a name that would give me strength and power, that would connote the grace of the waters that flow down from the Golan Heights. They gave me a name I could draw on when I needed reassurance. I’m grateful to them for that gift.
Our names are our stories. What story does your name tell?
