Crap, I changed my name and now I share it with an Australian murderer

• I legally changed my name in 2020 after years of transitioning.
• Three years later, I still love the name.

2020 was an eventful year for me.

I was laid off from my first job less than a year after graduating college, moved across the country back home with my parents, and was one of millions of unemployed Americans amidst an unprecedented global pandemic before landing a fellowship at Business Insider that led to my job as a full-time reporter today.

But there was a bright spot amongst the chaos: In September, more than a year after I had publicly announced I was trans, a Texas judge allowed me to legally change my name.

For a few weeks, I was thrilled. I basked in the knowledge that I had reached such an important milestone. I could finally get my driver's license and college diploma with a name that actually fit me.

That happiness, however, was short-lived.

But first, let's take a step back.

There are endless piles of books, podcasts, and blogs providing prospective parents guidance in choosing a name for their newborn.

Trans people don't really have that luxury. Instead, we each tend to carve out our own path to find a name that feels right. Some people make extensive lists, while others experiment going by different names with their closest friends, cycling through them like a fashionista trying on outfits at the mall.

I only mulled over a few options before settling on "Madison." I figured it was close enough to my birth name that it wouldn't trip up friends and family too much as they got used to it, and I would have the same initials. It also rolls off the tongue well, and it isn't as common in news bylines as my old name. In my book, it was a win-win.

There was just one teensy problem.

Today, I have a lot of faith in my research and fact-finding abilities. But back then, those skills weren't nearly as developed. And so, a few weeks after the change, I decided it would be a good idea to look up my new name on Google.

First up: Several university residences also named "Madison Hall."

Neat!

Then I discovered Maddison Hall, a convicted murderer from Australia. That Maddison Hall served several years in prison after being sentenced for shooting and killing a hitchhiker in 1989.

Not as neat!

To complicate matters even more, Hall is also transgender — her transition while serving her prison sentence was well-documented by Australian newspapers.

While I'm not afraid about receiving backlash online — I've written about my own experiences going ultra-viral for posting a transition timeline, which ended with a bevy of hate mail and death threats — it's not ideal to inadvertently share a name and valuable Google real estate with a convicted murderer who just so happens to belong to the same minority group as me.

Thankfully, the extra 'D' separating our names has mostly been enough to distance us in Google results, likely thanks to my small base of followers on X and more than 1,000 stories published on Business Insider. But searching her name and "trans" still occasionally also pulls up media appearances that I've done about my own transition.

Every trans person who decides to change their name will inevitably go down their own distinct and unique path before making a decision.

But take it from me: Maybe try Googling the name before the judge makes it final.

Would've saved me a headache or two.