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So fucking rad.

I used to hate my name. My mother wanted to name me Mary (after the Virgin Mary) of all things but I ended up with the name “Thuweiba” because my dad ended up naming me. Growing up in a predominately white town it was hard to honor it and I hated my name. I even went to visit Somalia for the first time and my family memebers kept asking my dad why I was given an “American” name. This is far from American lol. My dad’s a history and religion nerd so my name’s pretty archaic. I fucking love it now tho. It’s so darn cool and I’ve never met anyone else with it! ✨ Adds to my individuality complex 😼

@portraitofthuw

Oct 14, 2024

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learning to love your first name

perhaps it was a desperate need to fit in, but i used to tell kids in school that my real name was actually emily. i genuinely don't think i fooled anyone with that lie, especially when my accent was still very noticeable whenever i spoke back then. regardless, i thought my first name was too long and it was a pretty common name to have in colombia, so i always sported it like something that was mandated, assigned, but not something i actually appreciated. throughout the years, i met a couple of emilys, each very lovely, who fit the name very well. and that's when it clicked: i couldn't actually picture myself carrying that name for the rest of my life and truly feeling at home with it. valentina still felt like a mouthful, but i realized it did actually feel like me. anyways, that was a pretty long time ago and i cherish my first name in all its nine-character glory. i hope you find comfort and feel at home with your first name/chosen name– it's so important to how we view and present ourselves.

@verygoodvalentina

Nov 21, 2024

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fuckin wtv dude

my first + middle name is: arabella emerson (no last name hehehe you're not gonna catch me) when i was younger i used to change my name almost every summer. i went to a super woke summer camp that would let you put whatever you wanted on your name tag and so i was bella and onyx and oliver on an on and off roation for about 6 years. eventually i stopped because my mom found out and freaked out about me being trans, so i went back to being arabella for a while, and then in high school people started calling me by my last name (which was cool, but you're still not gonna get me) and then that evolved into me going by emerson, not for any particualr reason, it just sort of happened. my mom had less of an issue with that so i just stuck with it and it's what everyone calls me now. kind of rock with it also because people assume i'm a women less so i'm #showingthepatriarchywhoseboss but TBH with changing my name, you should just do it. like people will attach whatever ideas to your name change even if it's just from kevin--> kev or as jurrastic from kevin-->gabriel so you should just live your life. names are names, i understand the signifgances and nunaces to having certain names, and i would never deny anyone those, but when you change your name, you're not getting rid of the old one, you're just evolving. IMPORTANT: in changing your name, you are not wiping your past you're creating a new future. is that corny?

@mdoinurmom

Dec 24, 2024

Top Recs from @taterhole

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Starting over

“Life shrinks or expands in proportion to one's courage.” — Anaïs Nin This is uncharacteristically raw and personal, even for me, and pretty heavy! I know many of you have seen me posting through it and I feel safe to talk about it openly now that I’ve safely landed at the start of my new life. It’s honestly even a little bit embarrassing but I think it’s important to share. I’ve never publicly mentioned it on here, but I have a husband; as of Friday, we’d have been together for 11 years, and we’ve been married for 3 years as of 2/22. I realize now that I wanted to explore what I looked like outside of my relationship with him because I had lost that. This is why PI.FYI has been so meaningful to me as a space to express myself and connect with people—to rediscover my voice. I had been living a lie this entire time, to others but worst of all to myself. He’s been verbally and emotionally abusive, physically but without touching me, to the point that every day I spent with him I was in danger. I’ve been shrinking myself and walking on eggshells to avoid making him insecure and provoking his casual put-downs and fits of rage, while hanging on for dear life to the threads of good I could see. I’ve wanted so badly to leave, more than anything, but I felt like there was no way out and that this was just something I would need to endure indefinitely—but someone who is so very dear to me helped me see that I have wings to fly, not by acting as my savior but by reminding me of my own power. The emotional safety they built and the gentle care they showed me made me feel like I could open up to them. With their encouragement I was brave enough to tell the truth to my friends, my family, my boss, and they have received me with warm, loving and open arms and rallied to support and protect me. The financial and  logistical aspects were the most intimidating to me and it’s going to be tough for a while but I’m going to be better than okay! Now I’m opening up to you. This isn’t the only abuse I’ve suffered in my life, and my old therapist told me she believed it was my mission to share my strength and light with others to inspire them and show them that change is possible. I hope that by sharing this, I can reach even just one person who is going through something similar and show that they are not alone, and they are not weak. People with certain backgrounds may be more vulnerable to abuse, but it can happen to anyone. It thrives in darkness, shame, and isolation—and breaking that silence is the first step toward freedom. Leaving is the scariest thing I have ever done but I have so many angels around me, and I am endlessly grateful. Thank you for being here with me 💌

@taterhole

Mar 16, 2025

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Never changing

My dad teases me about how when I was a little kid, my favorite thing to do when I was on the landline phone with somebody—be it a relative or one of my best friends—was to breathlessly describe the things that were in my bedroom so that they could have a mental picture of everything I loved and chose to surround myself with, and where I sat at that moment in time. Perfectly Imperfect reminds me of that so thanks for always listening and for sharing with me too 💌

@taterhole

Feb 23, 2025

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Finally Quitting the job that you hate

Schedule sent my resignation email for the morning, effective immediately ✅💅

@taterhole

Feb 27, 2025