Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie’s daughters, Zahara, Vivienne, and Shiloh, made headlines recently as it was revealed that they have adopted new names. This decision to change their names garnered significant reactions among fans and followers of the Hollywood star and his family.
Zahara Seemingly Drops Last Name
Zahara Jolie-Pitt, the eldest daughter of Hollywood’s former power couple Angelina Jolie and Brad Pitt, has embarked on a new chapter in her life as an official member of the Alpha Kappa Alpha organization at Spelman College in Atlanta. This has also come with a notable drop of the name “Pitt.”
In a captivating video shared by Essence, Zahara’s infectious energy and enthusiasm were on full display as she introduced herself during her sorority’s probate.
Dressed in a stylish black midi dress, gloves, and pearls, she proudly declared, “My name is Zahara Marley Jolie, coming all the way from the Golden State in the city that is full of angels, Los Angeles, California. I am this line’s number seven.”
Fans expressed their thoughts regarding the missing “Pitt” from her name during this significant moment. One commenter expressed disappointment, noting, “That’s a shame seeing as how life could have been different for her, and he played a part in changing her life for the better.” Another fan questioned the scrutiny aimed at Brad, asking, “Why are they giving Brad such a hard time?”
Another comment urged caution, stating, “I just hope this young lady is making decisions based on her own reality because to reject a parent is a BIG DEAL and should not be influenced by other people’s experiences or recollections.”
As she begins this new chapter in her life, it’s clear that Zahara’s name choice is eliciting thoughtful reflections on the complexities of family dynamics after her parents’ divorce.
Vivienne Changes Name Amid Parents’ Legal Feud — Report
Vivienne Jolie-Pitt is one of the twins of Angelina and Brad. When the twins were born in 2008, Brad was “very pleased to be at the birth of his children, very moved and very emotional,” said OB/GYN Dr. Michel Sussman.
Now 15, Vivienne is exploring her artistic side with her mom’s strong support. According to People, the Playbill for the musical “The Outsiders” lists her as “Vivienne Jolie,” notably without “Pitt.” This name change marks a significant step in Vivienne’s evolving public identity.
In the musical, Vivienne Jolie works as a production assistant, and her mother, Angelina, is the producer. She often joins her mom during the musical’s promotional tour.
In a recent appearance on “Today,” she was spotted watching Angelina from the crowd. Reflecting on her daughter’s role in the musical, Angelina shared that Vivienne’s enthusiasm for the project is driven by its focus on family.
The veteran actress said, “And the same reason it responded to her, the same reason she wanted me next to her watching it, the same reason we all hugged when I came out here is because this is about family and it’s about community…”
Before the promotional tour, the mother-daughter pair were spotted attending the musical’s preview in New York City. This rare outing marked a significant public appearance for Vivienne, her first since 2021, drawing attention from fans and media alike.
Vivienne’s reported name change and recent public appearances highlight the evolving dynamics of the Jolie-Pitt family, especially after a third child, Shiloh, chose to follow in the footsteps of Zahara and Vivienne.
Shiloh Jolie-Pitt Turned 18 and Unveiled Her New Moniker
Shiloh Jolie-Pitt, who turned 18 on May 27, has filed legal documents to drop her father Brad’s surname and use her mother, Angelina’s surname. She now wishes to be known simply as “Shiloh Jolie,” making this one of her first actions as an adult.
TMZ recently reported that Shiloh filed the paperwork on Memorial Day, which coincided with her birthday. The request for the name change has yet to be officially granted, but it is expected to be a matter of time before it becomes official.
Shiloh’s decision follows a trend within the family, as her sisters, Vivienne and Zahara, have also reportedly omitted “Pitt” on separate occasions. These changes in the children’s names come amid court documents suggesting Angelina may have influenced their strained relationship with Brad.
Recent claims against the actress surfaced through a statement from Tony Webb, owner of SRS Global, a security company that provided personal protection for Angelina. Webb, employed under Jolie from 2000 to 2020, shared insights from his experience.
“One of the two individuals, Ross Foster, specified that he intended to testify regardless of the NDA if he received a court subpoena,” Webb stated. He further revealed disturbing details about the potential testimony.
“When Mr. Foster told me this, he also told me that if asked, he would testify about statements he overheard that Ms. Jolie made to the children, encouraging them to avoid spending time with Mr. Pitt during custody visits,” he claimed.
This revelation sparked a fierce reaction across social media platforms, with many expressing dismay at Angelina. Others showed concern over the potential impact on the Jolie-Pitt children.
“The fact that she cannot see the harm this is doing to their kids is just shocking,” one person commented. This was echoed by another commenter who noted, “It’s probably why Shiloh is moving in with her father now… She’s realized her mother is vindictive and has been trying to alienate them from Brad for years.”
One called Angelina’s alleged move “the worse possible thing a person can do… alienate their children from a parent.” Meanwhile, another declared “Shame on her.”
The debate over Angelina’s actions led some to reflect on the cyclical nature of such behavior, attributing it to her tumultuous upbringing. “Her childhood was similar from what I read. Maybe she can’t break that perpetual cycle or doesn’t want to,” one claimed.
Besides Vivienne, Shiloh, and Zahara, Angelina is a mother to Knox, Pax, and Maddox. She shares all of them with Brad and despite the public’s critical perception, Angelina Jolie has continually strived to embody the role of a nurturing, attentive mother. This is, a commitment deeply rooted in the lessons taught by her own mom, Marcheline Bertrand.
In a candid revelation made back in 2011, Angelina shared insights into her parenting approach, which is heavily influenced by the relationship she cherished with her mother. Angelina emphasized the importance of not just being a parent but also a friend to her children.
She highlighted the invaluable connection she experienced through open communication and shared activities with her mother. This foundation has guided her in fostering a similar bond with her children, ensuring that despite their diverse backgrounds, they feel united as a family.
Remembering her mother’s gentle spirit and unwavering generosity, Angelina aspires to emulate these traits. Her aim is clear: to be as good a mother to her children as her mother was to her.
A Stranger Volunteered to Hold My Grandson at the Laundromat — His Next Action Left Me Breathless
When my washing machine broke while I was babysitting my grandson, I reluctantly headed to the laundromat. A kind stranger offered to help by holding the baby while I sorted clothes. Grateful, I accepted, but when I turned around minutes later, I saw something that made my blood run cold.
I’d been counting down the days, practically bursting with excitement. My first weekend alone with little Tommy, my precious grandson. At 58, I thought I’d seen it all, done it all. But nothing could have prepared me for the rollercoaster of emotions that lay ahead.
The day finally arrived. Sarah, my daughter, and her husband Mike pulled up in their sensible SUV, packed to the brim with what looked like enough baby gear to stock a small daycare.
“Mom, you sure you’re gonna be okay?” Sarah asked for what felt like the millionth time, her brow furrowed with that new-mom worry I remembered all too well.
I waved her off with a confident smile. “Honey, I raised you, didn’t I? We’ll be just fine. Now scoot! You two deserve this break.”
As they drove away, I turned to Tommy, nestled in my arms, his tiny fingers curled around my thumb. “It’s just you and me now, little man,” I cooed. “We’re gonna have the best time.”
I had it all planned out: cuddles, bottles, naps, and playtime, all neatly scheduled. What could possibly go wrong?
Famous last words.
It started with a gurgle. Not the adorable baby kind, but the ominous rumble of my ancient washing machine giving up the ghost.
I stared at the growing puddle on my laundry room floor, surrounded by a mountain of tiny onesies and burp cloths.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” I muttered, feeling my perfect weekend plans crumble. Tommy chose that moment to unleash an impressive spit-up all over his last clean outfit.
I took a deep breath. “Okay, Grammy’s got this. We’ll just pop down to the laundromat. No big deal, right?”
Oh, how wrong I was.
The local laundromat was a relic from the ’80s, all buzzing fluorescent lights and the acrid smell of too much detergent.
I juggled Tommy, the diaper bag, and an overflowing laundry basket, feeling like I was performing some sort of demented circus act.
“Need a hand there, ma’am?”
I turned to see a man about my age, all salt-and-pepper hair and a grandfatherly smile.
Under normal circumstances, I might have politely declined. But with Tommy starting to fuss and my arms about to give out, that offer of help was too tempting to resist.
“Oh, would you mind? Just for a moment while I get this started,” I said, relief flooding through me.
He reached for Tommy, his weathered hands gentle as he cradled my grandson. “No trouble at all. Reminds me of when my own were little.”
I turned to the washing machine, fumbling with quarters and detergent pods. The familiar motions were soothing, and I found myself relaxing. Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad after all.
That’s when I felt it. A prickle at the back of my neck, a sudden silence that felt oppressive. I glanced back, more out of instinct than any genuine concern.
My heart stopped.
Tommy, my precious baby grandson, had something bright and colorful in his tiny mouth. A Tide pod. And that “helpful” stranger? He was just standing there, smiling like everything was fine.
“No!” The scream tore from my throat as I lunged forward, my hands shaking so badly I could barely grab Tommy.
I pried the pod from his mouth, my mind reeling with horrible possibilities. What if I hadn’t turned around? What if he’d swallowed it?
I turned back to the strange man in a fury.
“What were you thinking?” I yelled at the man, clutching Tommy to my chest. “Don’t you know how dangerous these are?”
He just shrugged, that infuriating smile still in place. “Kids put everything in their mouths. No harm done.”
“No harm done? Are you mad?” I snatched up a detergent pod and thrust it toward him. “Here, why don’t you eat one then and we’ll see how it agrees with you!”
The man raised his hands and backed away. “What? No ways. It’s not like he got any, he was just nibbling on the edge…”
“Nibble on the edge then!” I snapped. I was practically stuffing the pod in his mouth at this point, I was so angry!
“Leave me alone, you crazy Karen!” The man tugged the pod from my fingers and threw it aside. “Fine thanks I’m getting for trying to help you.”
I wanted to shake him, to make him understand the gravity of what could have happened. I may well have done something crazy too, but Tommy was crying now, big hiccuping sobs that matched the frantic beating of my heart.
“You, are an absolute menace!” I yelled at the man as I started grabbing my things. “And an idiot, too, if you think it’s harmless to let kids chew on whatever they put in their mouths.”
I snatched up the washing basket, not caring about the wet clothes left behind or the quarters wasted.
All that mattered was getting Tommy out of there, away from that clueless man and his careless disregard for a baby’s safety.
The drive home was a blur. Tommy’s cries from the backseat felt like an accusation. How could I have been so stupid? So careless?
I’d handed my grandson over to a complete stranger, all because I was too proud to admit I might need more help than I’d thought.
Back home, I collapsed onto the couch, Tommy held tight against me. He was still crying, and I couldn’t help wondering if he’d swallowed some of the chemicals after all.
My hands were still shaking as I took out my phone and called my doctor. I couldn’t stop the tears that came, hot and heavy, when the receptionist picked up.
“Miss Carlson?” I sobbed. “This is Margo. Please, can I speak to Dr. Thompson? It’s urgent.”
The receptionist quickly put me through, and I explained everything to Dr. Thompson. He asked me a series of questions, like whether Tommy was vomiting or experiencing any trouble breathing.
“No, none of that, doctor,” I replied.
“It seems like you got lucky then, Margo,” he replied, “but keep a close eye on that grandson of yours and get him to the hospital immediately if he starts wheezing, coughing, or vomiting, okay?”
I promised I would, thanked Dr. Thompson, and ended the call. His words had given me some relief, but the “what ifs” kept playing through my mind like some horrible movie I couldn’t turn off.
What if I hadn’t looked back in time? What if Tommy had swallowed that pod? What if, what if, what if…
As the adrenaline faded, exhaustion set in. But even as my body begged for rest, my mind wouldn’t quiet.
The weight of responsibility I’d taken on hit me full force. This wasn’t like babysitting for a few hours. This was a whole weekend where I was solely responsible for this tiny, precious life.
I looked down at Tommy, now sleeping peacefully against my chest, unaware of how close we’d come to disaster. His little rosebud mouth, the one that had so nearly ingested something so dangerous, now puckered slightly in sleep.
“I’m so sorry, sweetheart,” I whispered, pressing a gentle kiss to his forehead. “Grammy promises to do better.”
And in that moment, I made a vow. Never again would I let my pride or anyone else’s apparent helpfulness put Tommy at risk. From now on, it was just us: Grammy and Tommy against the world.
The rest of the weekend passed in a blur of hypervigilance. Every little sound had me on edge, every potential hazard magnified in my mind.
By the time Sarah and Mike returned, I was a wrung-out mess of nerves and sleep deprivation.
“Mom, are you okay?” Sarah asked, concern etching her features as she took in my disheveled appearance.
I plastered on a smile, handing over a happily gurgling Tommy. “Just fine, honey. We had a wonderful time, didn’t we, little man?”
As I watched them drive away, relief and guilt warred within me. I’d kept Tommy safe in the end. But the close call at the laundromat would haunt me for a long time to come.
I trudged back inside, eyeing the pile of still-unwashed laundry. With a sigh, I picked up the phone.
“Hello? I’d like to order a new washing machine, please. ASAP.”
Some lessons, it seems, come at a higher price than others. But if it meant keeping my grandson safe, no cost was too great. After all, that’s what being a grandmother is all about: love, learning, and sometimes, hard-won wisdom.
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