You've probably heard the term pop up in news cycles or on social media threads lately. It sounds heavy. It is heavy. Honestly, when people ask what is a deadname, they’re usually looking for a simple definition, but the reality is wrapped in layers of identity, respect, and sometimes, a whole lot of pain.
A deadname is the birth name of a transgender or non-binary person who has since changed it to align with who they actually are. It’s the name they’ve left behind. It’s "dead."
Think about it this way. Names are basically the first gift we ever get, right? But sometimes, that gift just doesn't fit. It’s like being forced to wear a pair of shoes three sizes too small for twenty years. Eventually, you have to take them off if you want to walk properly. For many in the trans community, that old name represents a version of themselves that didn't feel real, or worse, a version that was deeply unhappy.
The weight behind the word
It isn't just about a "former name." We all have those. Maybe you had a nickname in high school you hated, or you changed your last name after a divorce. This is different.
When someone uses a person's deadname, it’s called deadnaming. Sometimes it’s a total accident. People slip up. Brains are wired for habit, and if you've known someone as "Chris" for a decade, switching to "Maya" takes a minute of conscious effort. But when it’s done on purpose? That’s where the trouble starts.
Intentional deadnaming is often used as a weapon. It’s a way of saying, "I don't care who you say you are; I’m the one who decides your identity." It’s an act of invalidation. According to research published in the Journal of Adolescent Health, using a transgender youth’s chosen name can significantly reduce risks of depression and suicidal ideation. Names aren't just sounds; they're lifelines.
Why people change their names in the first place
Identity is complicated.
Most of us take our names for granted. We see them on our driver’s licenses or hear them called at the doctor’s office and don't feel a sting. For a trans person, that old name can be a constant reminder of a time when they were hiding or when they weren't safe to be themselves.
Transitioning is a massive, often exhausting process. It involves medical hurdles, legal paperwork, and social navigation. Choosing a new name is often the first moment of agency a person has in that journey. It's a declaration.
Legal hurdles and the "Paper Trail" nightmare
Changing a name isn't as easy as just telling your friends. It’s a bureaucratic gauntlet. You've got to deal with:
- The Social Security Administration.
- The DMV (which is a headache even on a good day).
- Birth certificate amendments (which vary wildly by state).
- Bank accounts, credit cards, and leases.
In some states, you still have to publish your name change in a local newspaper. Imagine being a trans person just trying to live your life, and you’re legally required to announce your private business to the entire county. It’s outdated. It’s also dangerous for some, which is why many advocates are pushing for privacy-focused name change laws.
Deadnaming in the spotlight
We see this play out in the media all the time. Look at Elliot Page. When he came out in 2020, most outlets were great about it. But some corners of the internet insisted on using his deadname. Why? Usually to make a point.
💡 You might also like: Why Do Black Women Wear Wigs? It’s Way More Than Just a Style Choice
The same thing happened with Caitlyn Jenner years ago. The public struggle over what is a deadname and why we should stop using it often happens on the biggest stages. When a celebrity transitions, it becomes a massive "teachable moment" for the rest of the world, whether they asked for it or not.
Real talk: it’s about basic manners. If your friend gets married and asks you to call them by their new last name, you do it. You might mess up once or twice, but you try. If you refuse to use their new name, you’re just being a jerk. It’s the same principle here, just with much higher stakes for the person's mental health.
The "But I Knew You When" Argument
A common thing you’ll hear is, "But I knew you as [Deadname] for twenty years! It’s hard for me, too."
Yeah, it is.
Change is weird. It’s okay to feel a sense of loss for the version of the person you thought you knew. But that's a you problem, not a them problem. Your nostalgia for their old name doesn't outweigh their right to exist comfortably in the present.
Grieving a name is a real thing for parents sometimes. They chose that name with love. They have memories attached to it. But clinging to it is like trying to keep a butterfly in a jar because you liked the caterpillar better. You’ll kill the thing you’re trying to hold onto.
What to do if you slip up
Don't make a big scene. Seriously.
If you accidentally deadname someone, the best move is:
- Correct yourself immediately.
- Offer a brief, sincere apology.
- Move the hell on.
Don't spend ten minutes crying about how hard it is for you to remember. That forces the trans person to comfort you for disrespecting them. It’s awkward. Just say, "Sorry, I meant Maya," and keep talking.
Digital footprints and the "Right to be Forgotten"
The internet makes having a deadname way harder than it used to be.
Old Facebook photos. LinkedIn endorsements from 2012. College yearbooks digitized on Ancestry.com. For many, the deadname is a ghost that haunts their Google search results. This is why "deadnaming" isn't just a verbal thing; it’s a data thing.
💡 You might also like: Dealing With Fleas in the House: Why Your Current Strategy is Probably Failing
Tech companies are slowly catching up. Some platforms are making it easier to update usernames without losing account history. But we’re not there yet. Every time a "Memory" pops up on a phone with an old name, it can trigger gender dysphoria—that deep sense of unease when your external world doesn't match your internal self.
Why this conversation isn't going away
We are living through a time where gender is being redefined in the public consciousness. People are realizing that the boxes we were given at birth don't fit everyone.
Understanding what is a deadname is part of a larger shift toward empathy. It’s about recognizing that everyone deserves the dignity of being called what they want to be called. It sounds simple because it is. We complicate it with politics and tradition, but at the end of the day, it’s about a person looking you in the eye and saying, "This is who I am," and you believing them.
Practical steps for being a better ally
If you want to support the trans people in your life, or even just be a more informed human being, here’s how to handle the "name game" with some actual grace.
Audit your contacts
Check your phone. If you have a friend who transitioned three years ago but they’re still under their old name in your contacts, change it. Now. It prevents accidental slips when you're sending a quick text or showing someone a photo.
Check the pronouns, too
Names and pronouns usually go hand-in-hand. If the name changed, the pronouns probably did too. Use them. Even when the person isn't in the room. That’s actually the most important time to do it, because it trains your brain to associate the new identity with the person's face.
Don't ask "What was your real name?"
Their new name is their real name. Their old name is private information. Unless they offer it, don't go digging for it. It’s like asking someone to see a photo of them at their most vulnerable or unhappy moment—it's intrusive and unnecessary.
Normalize introducing yourself with your own name and pronouns
"Hi, I'm Alex, and I use he/him." When cisgender people do this, it takes the target off the backs of trans people. It makes the "name and pronoun" thing a standard part of human interaction rather than a "trans thing."
Educate yourself without being a burden
There are thousands of creators on TikTok, YouTube, and Substack who share their transition stories. If you’re confused, go watch a video. Read a book like Redefining Realness by Janet Mock. Don't make your one trans coworker the "Gender Encyclopedia." They’re just trying to get their work done and go home.
The world is changing. Names are changing. It might feel like a lot to keep up with, but at the heart of it is a very old, very simple idea: respect. When you use someone's correct name, you are acknowledging their humanity. When you use a deadname, you’re ignoring it. Choose the first one. It’s easier, kinder, and frankly, it’s just the right thing to do.