I come from a geography which the names that bind words to the soul keep magical, religious place of its culture. In a country where I was born, people wouldn’t have given a name to people, people are struggling to get their own names. In our traditions dating back centuries ago, it was impossible to have a name without being a hero. Today, we do not have names by having swords, winning victories and writing epics. But I believe we have proved that we have a name by fighting a different way, giving a modern war.
I think that our names are nothing more than the themes of stories written on our destinies. That’s why the old wives of fortune-tellers can map all of our lives to our names. Our names hold the power in the hands like an amulet.
Like the young poems which choose their poet in the world, our names choose their destiny in our lifes.
We don’t choose our names, our names choose us.
“Ceren”, which means the newborn deer in my birthplace, is one of the images that the families adorn while presenting love to their loved ones and children. Deer is an animal that walks in lush forests has not entered the axe, makes you dizzy with her beauty. She has a bright skin washed with sun-chic, she has eyes like two black bullets that sits on the most distinguished throne of her face. Like a lover who was drunk from love, she would be so pleased to be swayed by the Anatolian people. I was like Ceren, I have grew up like Ceren. In many Anatolian stories, you can read the dialogues that are flowing through the edge of fiction which are written for young, beautiful women in Turkey.
That’s why I first came to the world by choosing the name Ceren when I was born. It became a companion to my identity until I realized the meaning and purpose of life. With my delicate soul in a paper-thin, I’ve watered all the details of the name I took with my coy posture which runs to the smallest movement of life. As a deer, shy, melancholy…
However, sometimes the names are like a strong wind that changes the fate of the course and they defy. Until I decided that my real name should be “Deniz” whick means “the sea”, I spent my time passing through the circle of sorts of events, paying hard fees for that name.
I was born on the wild land of the Black Sea region. The lands that crowded, with dense forests, perhaps the most rebellious boundaries plotted on the map of the country. I have had my lullabies with the melodies of cruel storms that turn the city into ruin parts. The forests which stretched their leaves like a shield to the sun’s lights were my only friend. I have witnessed that the waves that listen to the savage call of this wild land rush to the shores, that the Black Sea is always furious and hungry for humanity, for many times.
On the other hand, Turkey is a country surrounded by seas on three sides. When you swim in the salty waters of the Mediterranean Sea, you witness that the waves are flatten with white bubbles. The blue is almost as thin, neat as it is.
I’ve never felt “normal” or “average” in my life. I look at the seas, it’s no different than looking in a mirror. It is like the reflection of me that sometimes the seas are so calm and small, fast rivers ridicule with them. Sometimes their raging, bulging, rising waves, like a killer, kept the list of everyone’s death is not different from the personality I had. My uninhibited feelings of emotion always looked like the seas of the mood that I was always looking at.
My youth, which flies between the summit and the bottom, only reminds me of the sea. The time showed me this manifest. The sea which holds the imposing ships, the freighter carrying tons of cargo is strong like me. The sea which does not refuse to return people’ hand with its nutrients is generous like me. The sea which is so creative and turn to an ugly city to a glamorous beauty is like me. It falls like a blue veil to the face of the city…
My name is Deniz because I have created the waves of my destiny.