Becoming Pixel

Over the past few years, while being sick with a chronic illness (one I only recently became aware of), I’ve done a lot of deep reflecting as part of the healing process.

As I started to recover enough to turn back toward my work and interests, to return more to the outer world, I kept having a nagging feeling that I should pick a new name for myself.

I’ve felt the urge to have a nickname or another name many times throughout my life. In elementary school, I wanted a name with an “i” in it so I could, and this felt very important at the time, write a heart as the dot. I had a few favorite names. Back then, if you remember, you wrote your name at the top of your paper many times a day—there were endless chances to rewrite it. I would write my first and last name and rotate in different middle names: Lizette—with a heart over the “i”.

That urge for a new name returned during many life or creative transitions: starting middle school and college, entering adulthood, wanting to become a writer in my mid-twenties and searching for a pen name, and more. Each time, I either talked myself out of it or let myself be talked out of it.

Until this time.

Part of healing from a complex chronic illness—one that left me allergic to most foods, too exhausted for daily activities, and frequently in the ER—was learning to listen to myself with more seriousness than I ever had before. I discovered that the small, quiet voice inside me was actually a good guide. In a situation with an unclear medical path, my instincts became valuable. I began to notice that my hunches were often wise.

For example, I felt strongly that I should see an eye specialist because my eyes were bothering me, even though two standard ophthalmologists had told me everything was fine. It turned out to be a key piece of the puzzle.

That’s where Pixel comes in.

This time, I decided I was going to gift myself a new name. Transgender communities have helped normalize the idea of renaming yourself (thank you!), and that made it easier for me to imagine the process of letting people know about the change. At the time, though, I wasn’t yet sure of the name or the plan.

For my birthday last January I gifted myself a chart reading with the brilliant Sonya Renee Taylor. I saw she was running a January sale, and while I’m not especially into astrology, I am a huge fan of hers. Sonya is a fellow sex educator and a role model to me in her anti-oppression work and leadership. I loved the idea of spending private time with a professional hero as a way to celebrate my birthday.

I went into the 90 minute session with three possible names in mind. I didn't share them but I let her know I'm in a healing process and looking for insight about where to go in the next section of my life.

Near the end of the reading, after she had reflected on my chart for almost an hour and a half, she said something like:

It’s as if, in this next section of your life, you are a pixel in the big screen of life. Your job is not to try to balance the scales the way you’ve been called to before, but to shine your own bright pixel and trust others to do the same.

I stopped her immediately.

“I have to tell you something,” I said. “I came into this session with three possible new names—and Pixel was one of them.”

I had wondered why I would choose a name connected to something tiny, or something related to technology, when I’m not particularly into tech. In that moment, I understood. Now I knew why. Now I knew that Pixel was my new name.

Pixel is the name I’m choosing to mark this shift—a reminder that I am more than the roles I’ve adapted to. To me, a pixel represents a single, distinct point of light. On its own, it may seem small. But in connection with others, it becomes part of a much larger picture.

So here I am, becoming Pixel. Trusting that in the bigger picture, the light I share belongs as does the light of every other person and creature. That there is a way to make this work in the world.

As a beautiful afterthought, I later learned, much to my surprise, that Judaism has a tradition of renaming oneself after a serious illness, as an act of empowerment and reaffirmation of life. I was raised Jewish and through healing found more of my connection to the spiritual worlds. So when I heard that fact I was shocked to have made a decision in alignment with a ritual I was unaware of. It was so affirming and i thought to myself: Yes! You go Pixel! Keep following your own light.