我像一个流浪者，几经辗转终于来到第一世界，悄悄改去名字，隐秘而兴奋地开始完全不一样的生活。
我一直讨厌我原本的名字：“男”。为什么要给一个女孩取名“男”呢？小的时候我怎么也想不明白，只觉得无地自容地窘迫和难堪。我多希望是”南方“的”南“，或者”楠溪江“的”楠“，无论是哪个nan都好，为什么偏偏是这个代表性别的”男“呢？我问妈妈，为什么我的名字是“男”？可是我从来没有得到一个认真的回答。
于是，在终于可以和我的家庭远隔万里之后，我赶忙抓住了机会，迫不及待摆脱过去的窘迫与自卑，给我自己起了一个新名字，叫“星”。每次用英文介绍我的名字，我都会补充一句，“在中文里是”星星“的意思哦。”我多么喜欢这个名字，它是我给予自己的第一次新生。
星带着小狐在伦敦找到了新的人生，可是男也从未离去。男静静地躺在护照上、身份证上、医疗注册表格上、租房合同上、一切正式的证件文件上；男一句话也不说，但总会以不同的方式提醒星，不要忘了你来自哪里，不要忘了你的另一个身份。
星兴高采烈地在伦敦参加骄傲游行，站在“中国酷儿与女权主义者”的队伍里。满街的人都在为星的方阵呼喊，星第一次觉得可以畅快呼吸空气里的自由因子，沐浴在骄傲的阳光之下。可是活动结束之后的落寞也很快包裹了星。星没办法在中文互联网发布游行的照片，星也从来没有勇气向她的家庭出柜。每次星发布朋友圈，都是默默勾选上“谁不可看”的选项，她深知自己有太多秘密要掩藏，有太多矛盾与荒诞要品尝，有太多枷锁和束缚无法挣脱，有太多话只能和小狐讲。
星和小狐在Vauxhall一个十三平的ensuite住了两年，这期间她遇见了Aria，她决定要携手一辈子的人；于是两个人一起在东伦敦慢慢地搭建起了只属于两个人小小公寓，开始有了每天下课后对回家的期待。一个自己的小家能治愈一切外面世界的伤痛。星决心要在伦敦努力生活下去，她相信终有一天“男”会彻底消失地无影无踪，而星则能带着小狐一起牵着Aria的手，光明正大地站在阳光之下。只是，要努力，要特别努力才行。
My journey felt like that of an exile, wandering until I finally reached the First World. I quietly shed my old name, slipping into a life so utterly different—a life hidden, thrilling, and new.
I had always disliked my given name: ‘Nan’, which in Chinese means ‘man’ or ‘male’. Why would anyone name a girl ‘man’? I never understood it as a child, only that it filled me with a deep, aching shame. How I wished I could be called the ‘Nan’ (南) of ‘Nanfang’(word ‘south’ in Chinese) or perhaps the ‘Nan’(楠) from the Nanxi River—any other meaning, any other ‘Nan’ would have been a relief. (These words are homophones in Chinese). But why this one, bound to sex? I asked my mother why my name was ‘Nan’, but I never received a serious answer.
And so, when I finally put an ocean between myself and my family, I seized the chance to cast off that shame and replace it with a new name: Xing—‘Star’ Whenever I introduced myself in English, I would add, “It means ‘star’ in Chinese.” How I loved that name; it felt like the first breath of a new life, a rebirth gifted to myself.
Xing, with Little Fox at her side, found a new life in London. But Nan never left. Nan lay quietly on her passport, on her ID, on her healthcare forms, her rental contracts, every official document she had to sign. Nan never spoke, but in subtle ways, always reminded Xing of her origins, her other self that could not be erased.
Xing, joyful and free, attended London’s Pride parade, standing proudly with the Chinese Queer and Feminists contingent. The crowds cheered her group as Xing inhaled freedom in the air, standing radiant under the sun of pride. But the feeling of loneliness set in soon after the event ended. Xing couldn’t share the parade photos on Chinese social media because it would get censored, and she never had the courage to come out to her family. Every time Xing posted a photo on Wechat, she carefully selected who *not* to let see it. She knew she had too many secrets to hide, too many contradictions to endure, too many chains she could not break. There were so many things she could only say to Little Fox.
For two years, Xing and Little Fox lived in a thirteen-square-meter ensuite in Vauxhall; during this time she met Aria, the person she decided to spend her life with. Together, they slowly built a little home of their own in East London, filling it with warmth, something to look forward to after every day of class. A small home of one’s own can heal the pain inflicted by the world outside. Xing believed that one day, Nan would fade into oblivion, and Xing would walk hand in hand with Aria and Little Fox under the open sky, unafraid and free. But she knew it would take effort—so much effort to get there.