My Name Means Sea
On a name that crossed an ocean, the meaning no one asks about, and learning to stay myself in every kind of water.
When I was in high school, I entered my first biathlon, a race that combined swimming and running. I was nervous, focused, and ready to swim. Then, just before the swimming part, I found out that I had been placed in the men’s heat.
I had to walk up to the referees and explain that I was a girl.
They looked at me, completely surprised. “You’re a girl?” they asked.
It was such a funny moment. In Türkiye, Deniz is a name for both girls and boys, so whoever made the list had simply guessed. And they had guessed wrong.
That was the first time I realized that a name can place you somewhere you do not belong. But it was not the last time my name would surprise people.
Here in the United States, my name has become something else. People say it, and write it, as Denise or Denis. I have never corrected anyone. I do not want to embarrass them, and honestly, I do not mind. For them, these are the easiest ways to say it, and I understand that.
But there is something nobody here has ever asked me: what my name means.
In Turkish, deniz means sea.
Every day, I carry a Turkish word with me. People say it in classrooms, write it on papers, and call it across the library. But the meaning stays quietly with me, like a small secret that crossed the ocean without anyone noticing.
Maybe that is why water has always felt like home.
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I started swimming after I quit gymnastics. I did not know it then, but being in the water would become one of the most important parts of my life. In the water, I felt free. I felt calm. Everything that felt heavy on land seemed lighter there.
Last year, I swam in my first open-water race in Fethiye: six kilometers in the sea.
It was the hardest race I have ever swum. Many times, I wanted to stop. Many times, I thought about giving up. But I kept going, one stroke after another.
When I finally reached the finish line, I was so happy that I said to myself, “I did it. I really did it.”
And I loved it.
In a pool, there are lanes, walls, and lines on the bottom to guide you. In the sea, there is none of that. It is just you, the water, and your own thoughts. You are alone with yourself in a way that is hard to find anywhere else. Maybe that is why I enjoyed it so much, even when it was difficult.
Since coming here, my name has started to feel deeper to me. I crossed an ocean to begin a new chapter of my life, carrying a name that means sea. Some days, that feels like a coincidence. Other days, it feels like a reminder.
When I think about the sea, I think about freedom and calm. But I also think about the days when it is rough, when the waves rise and the water refuses to be still. And yet, whether it is calm or wavy, the sea always remains itself.
I think that is what I am learning to do, too.
Some days here feel calm. Some days feel like that race in Fethiye, when every part of me wants to stop. But I am learning that I do not have to be calm all the time to be myself. I can be tired, unsure, or overwhelmed, and still keep going, one stroke at a time.
People can call me Denise or Denis. They can write my name in whatever way feels easiest to them.
But I know what my name means.
And wherever I go, I am still the sea.
