
I was speaking with a client recently about something deceptively simple: a name.Not titles, not roles, just the word that belongs uniquely to you.
We explored how calling someone by their name can feel warm, personal, and affirming, while avoiding their name can create distance or preserve boundaries. In a workplace, this choice can shape relationships without a single extra word. Sometimes, using a name draws people closer. Other times, holding it back maintains healthy professional space.
Ever wonder why it holds such an impact?
Because our name is often the most beautiful sound in the world to us. From birth, it’s the word wrapped around our identity, spoken by loved ones, echoed in moments of joy, and whispered in times of comfort.
Neuroscience confirms what we feel instinctively. A 2006 fMRI study found that hearing one’s own name activates the medial prefrontal cortex, the part of the brain deeply connected to self-perception and personal relevance. Your name isn’t just another word it’s a verbal mirror. It reflects you back to yourself.
When someone calls us by our name, they acknowledge our individuality. When they misuse it, withhold it, or ignore it, it can make us feel unseen, sometimes even controlled.
That conversation with my client unlocked a memory from childhood.
My father would tell me the eerie, almost hypnotic tale of Khairat-un-Naazir.

The Tale of Khairat-un-Naazir
She was once a healer, living deep in the marshlands, known for her gift to bend nature’s will toward health and harmony. Few dared to seek her out, for the marsh was treacherous, and her remedies came at a cost.
One day, a weary traveler stumbled upon her hut. He asked her name. She hesitated, for in her world, a true name was the key to the soul. But the traveler’s words were sweet, his eyes sincere, and so she spoke it aloud: Khairat-un-Naazir.
The moment her name left her lips, the traveler’s smile changed. He whispered her name back to her, again and again, binding it with words of power only he knew. In that instant, she felt her will tighten like rope around her own throat. The marsh, once her ally, grew cold.
Bound to the traveler’s command, she could no longer heal of her own choice. Now, she wanders the fog, seeking the names of others, not for malice, but to reclaim the power that was taken from her.
The story always left me unsettled as a child. I remember getting super scared and promising that i will never tell a stranger my real name, to this he smiled and said, "Beta, this story of Khairat-un-Naazir… it is not just about ghosts or magic. It is about life.
You see, in the old tales, knowing a spirit’s true name gave you power. In the same way, when someone knows the deepest parts of you, your hurts, your fears, your dreams, they hold a kind of power over you. They can use it to help you… or to hurt you. That’s why we say: knowledge is power. And I am advising you to not to overshare. Pakeezah, when the traveler took Khairat’s name, he bound her. In real life, this binding happens in many ways. Sometimes, naming something brings healing, like when a doctor names an illness, or when you name the feeling in your heart and it becomes lighter. But sometimes, people use what they know to control, belittle, or keep someone small. That is domination.
The traveler feared Khairat’s power. Instead of learning from her, he tried to control her. People do this too, they try to control what they don’t understand."
Now I know we call that projection: they see their own fear or weakness in someone else and try to bind it.
"And so, the moral, beta, is this: guard your true name. Not just the one on paper, but the one that lives inside you, the truth of who you are. Share it with those who have earned your trust, who will use it to lift you up, not to chain you. And remember, you also hold names — truths, about others. Handle them with care, because in this, you too hold power." Now as an adult, and especially as a therapist, I see its truth:
A name is more than a label.
In certain spaces, sharing it too freely can give others a kind of power.
And sometimes, the wisest thing we can do is choose when and how to offer it.
This is why boundaries matter, in therapy, in workplaces, in friendships. It’s why respecting someone’s name is a form of respecting them.
So here’s my invitation to you:
Notice how you feel when your name is used, warmly, casually, formally, or not at all.
Pay attention to how you use the names of others.
Ask yourself: Is this an act of connection, or am I stepping into a space they haven’t invited me into yet?
Because, whether in an ancient marsh or a modern office, the truth remains:
Names carry power. Use them wisely.



