As you may have noticed, something about me looks a little different.
That’s right – I’ve changed my name. Again.
Our names carry weight – stories, lineage, expectations – many of which we don’t even realize. They shape the way we are seen, the way we see ourselves, and the energy we carry into the world.
Changing a name might seem unconventional, even radical. But for me, it feels like stepping into something new, stretching beyond the familiar, into the space where transformation happens.
We are not static beings. We are fluid, ever-evolving, shedding old layers, embracing new ones. And yet, we often hold onto our names, our identities, as if they are set in stone.
But what if they weren’t?
We rarely question the names we are given at birth. They become an unshakable part of us, etched into legal documents, whispered by loved ones, called out in classrooms, woven into our identities.
We inherit them from our families, carry them through life, and in some cases, pass them on to the next generation. We associate them with our lineage, our history, our culture. They tether us to where we come from, forming a bridge between past, present, and future.
And yet, we evolve. We expand. We grow beyond the definitions we once fit into.
So, what if our names could evolve with us?
What if a name wasn’t just something we were given – but something we could choose?
The first time my name shifted, it happened naturally. More than a decade ago, my Hungarian birth name, Eszter, gently transformed into Estela. It wasn’t forced. I didn’t plan it. It just… happened. A subtle, organic shift that reflected the unfolding of my life.
A new name for a new chapter.
It made life abroad easier. It felt lighter, more fluid. And without even realizing it, I began carrying multiple identities within me – two different expressions of Self, coexisting, expanding my sense of who I was.
I never changed it on paper, never made a formal decision. And yet, both names – Eszter and Estela – became a part of me, allowing me to hold multiple identities, to stretch beyond the confines of one label.
A name, after all, is just a word. And yet, it holds so much.
And now, it’s happening again. But this time, it’s intentional.
For years, I’ve felt the quiet pull of something new. A whisper of transformation. A name that holds the essence of where I am and where I’m headed. And a new name has appeared;
Estela Magic
It feels wild. A little crazy. Exciting. Expansive. It stretches me. It invites me to step into something bigger – freedom, self-expression, manifestation, magic and the unknown. And yet, it also feels deeply familiar, as if a part of me has been waiting for this all along.
This choice isn’t about abandoning who I was.
It’s about welcoming who I’m becoming.
It’s about listening to the subtle nudges, the inner whispers that call us to step beyond the known, to explore the edges of our own becoming.
✨ What doors will this open?
✨ What edges will this stretch?
✨ What possibilities are beyond?
As I explore, I feel the deeper threads. This shift is about more than just a name.
It’s about lineage. About honoring the past while stepping fully into the present. It’s about my father’s side – the masculine lineage that has shaped me so deeply. And now, it’s about softening into my feminine energy – the intuitive, creative, mystical force within me.
It’s about embracing my wild, untamed nature. The part of me that thrives in the unknown. That experiments with life like an artist changing canvases and colors. And allows my identity to be fluid, playful, expansive.
It’s about saying yes to growth. Yes to change. Yes to stepping into the fullness of who I am.
A name is just one part of identity, but how strongly do we hold onto our identities and who we think we are? How much of our identity is chosen, and how much is inherited?
We live in a world that often seeks certainty, stability, and definition. We hold on tightly to names, titles, and roles because they make us feel safe. They give us something to grasp onto, something that tells us who we are.
But what if the true adventure lies in letting go?
What if we could experiment more with how we define ourselves? What if we gave ourselves the permission to change, evolve, and become – again and again?
What if our identity wasn’t a fixed destination, but an ever-expanding journey?
What if we played with the idea of who we are, like an artist plays with paint?
What if we allowed ourselves to shift, to transform, to rewrite our own narratives?
Maybe we don’t have to be just one thing. Maybe we never were.
Maybe we are meant to change, to evolve, to shed and grow, over and over again.
Maybe identity is not a cage, but a canvas.
So, I leave you with this question:How much of your identity is truly yours?
And who could you become if you let yourself explore?