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The Collected Cathy By Cathy Guisewite
My name is Catherine. I was named after my maternal grandmother who went by “Kitty” (very British, very cute). When my mother was looking to nickname me as a baby (since I guess that’s what you do with more formal names?), she settled on “Cathy” since she felt that something like “Cate” was too weird. (Shout-out to Cate Blanchett.) And Cathy stuck. Forever. Despite my first attempt to change it back at the age of eight and the many attempts after. I just can’t seem to shake this name that I don’t like.
Is this a seriously first world problem? Hell yes. Is it inconsequential compared to other struggles (particularly when it comes to trans identity)? Hell yes. That’s a whole other level of struggle I can’t claim. But a benign-nickname-turned-sour I suspect is also pretty relatable and something we could commiserate over to see if any solutions exist out there. How does one shake a hated nickname?
The first attempt to reclaim my name
Eventually I just went with it. Like other formal-sounding English names (I’m looking at you Theresa, Victoria, and Elizabeth), I get that it just feels weird to call someone a name like Catherine. They want to call me Cathy, Cat, Cath, anything shorter and less cumbersome. There was no chance of getting anyone in the habit of a new name when they’d been hearing another for so many years. So I waited it out.
Adult time! Name embracing time!
I had gone to college with some high school friends so there was zero chance of getting a fresh name start there. When I graduated, however, it was a clean slate. Time to start introducing myself as Catherine and have nobody around to drop the Cathy bomb. New jobs, new friends, new lovers… all called me whatever I told them to call me. Some shortened it in other ways: Cat, Cath, CC (my initials), Kit Kat, etc. These were somehow all fine, but Cathy had become something else entirely.
As my pleas to call me by my given name went unbidden by my old friends and family, it started to feel like an aggressive name. What was a benign chummy nickname became something angering, when it never should have been. These friends and family meant no harm, of course. I felt petty to even care what people called me and to request something else. Most of my old school friends bewilderingly admitted that they’d never be able to make the switch. When I heard the name, it rang shrill and loud. Nobody could understand why it bothered me and I had trouble articulating why as well. (I mean, it was just a name, calm down, right? It’s not “arseface!”)
True. It wasn’t arseface.
But it sure felt like it at times. To this day, in my mid-30s, there are two sets of people: those from pre-2002 who cling to Cathy as a familiar name they just can’t shake, even if they want to (and I know they mean NO intentional harm in it). My mom, to her credit, totally tries to call me Catherine in front of others. I guess she took that parent-teacher conference to heart.
The post-2002 friends and loved ones easily call me a name that was original to me — at least to them. I wonder what it would be like at an event focused on me — a wedding, say, or a birthday party. I have had neither of these in my adulthood so I’m not even sure what it would sound like. Would half of the people call me something unfamiliar to the other half? Would all of those adult friends and coworkers suddenly start calling me “Cathy” — finally free of the heft of a name they probably think is too formal and stuffy anyway?
My sweet boyfriend knows not to utter the dreaded nickname (he’s in that post-2002 group), despite having to hear it sung out when we hang out with my old pals. He knows that it’s a silly, petty complaint and he abides it anyway. He understands why it has grown into something larger than it ever should have been. And I in turn know that those other friends and family love me just as much. They just can’t wrap their heads around the OG name.
Is this just a matter or getting over my damned self? Do any of you have similar experiences with nicknames or pronunciation (or are on the other side trying to call Vickie, Victoria)? Share your own stories — and I’ll call you whatever name you like when I reply…
About the Author: Catherine Clark
Catherine Clark loiters at her local library, makes art, watches movies en masse, plays video and tabletop games, poorly cooks healthy things, cuddles with her feline fur babies, and blogs at BijouxandBits.com.
I’ve had this problem with my name too. It’s Amanda but people automatically assume they can call me Mandy and I hate it. The only person that ever used this nickname for me was my grandfather. My response isn’t the most polite but it gets the point across; I tell them there is only one person allowed to call me Mandy and he is dead.
My partner was known as Dan by all our friends for a long time before we started dating. After we’d been dating a few months, and I introduced him as Dan, I noticed him cringe slightly and he pull me aside. “Actually, it’s Daniel. Our group is the only group to call me Dan. Everyone else calls me Daniel, and it’s what I feel more comfortable with.”
It was a little weird for me to hear, because this guy who I was rapidly falling in love with was very much Dan in my mind. Everyone I spoke to about him called him Dan (“So how are you and Dan going?”). Daniel felt…odd and foreign.
But I tried the change as soon as I had the opportunity. A day later, I looked up from a book and couldn’t see him, and called out “Daniel?”
He popped up from behind a couch where I hadn’t been able to see him (fixing some cables), and he looked unexpectedly delighted. “It’s so nice to hear you say my real name.”
The happiness in his voice stuck with me, and I made sure I mentally identified him as Daniel, not Dan. I was able to quietly influence our social circle too, referring to him as Daniel always and letting Dan fall out of use.
Learning a new name/moniker can require some brain retraining (many of my friends are coming out with new identities and new names), but the happiness someone feels when they’re referred to by their true name is worth it.
I came into the world as K A T H R I N no E’s, Kathrin Jean specifically. My grandma was Kay, my aunt was Kate, so naturally I was Kathi, and if that wasn’t enough distinction I was called Kathi Jean by my mom’s family and I hated it, hate hate hate, one relative called me Kathi Jean when I was legit too old to be called what I’ve always felt as my baby name. My mom always called me Kathrin, plus Jean if I was in trouble. When I was seven or eight years old, (I remember this so clearly), one night I got out of bed, went to the dining room where my mom and step-dad were talking, and I declared that I wanted a different nick name because “Kathrin is too formal” my mom stated, “We can call you Kitty instead” in my young mind I though, oh hell no. “Do I look like a Kitty to you?” Precocious. Fucking Kathi Jean stuck and I hated it. I eventually got the Jean dropped outside of my family, but I’ve always really despised Kathi, Kathie, Kathy, Cathy, definitely not a C, I grew up in the era of the Cathy comic strip, and neither am I Katherine. The spelling of my name has always been problematic, my last name, Gallaher (shake fist at sky) does not have a second G. Even when I’d spell my name out individual letters at a time, people still managed to get it wrong. I’m not Katy GallaGher, thank you very much, at least try.
Back in the early days of the internet, before browser based email (and AOL) every time I moved I had to get a new ISP, Kathi with an I was always taken so I started using Qathi with a Q, I started signing off with Q and Q stuck, stuck hard, and I embraced it gleefully. Years later when Payroll started writing checks to Qathi I didn’t correct them, I spent my new money to legally change it to Qathrin in ’98. In ’03 as part of divorce proceedings I changed my middle and last names, shifting my last to my middle and gave myself my grandmother’s surname, thinking people would be able to spell that correctly (surprisingly, no). I have been going by Q Hart ever since.
However, with all my name changing, my legal identity has become difficult to prove, when I have to validate my identity I take every legal document I have to demonstrate I am in fact me. When I live in Washington it wasn’t a problem, we’re allowed to have multiple aliases to accommodate for nick names, married names, religious names and the like, but once I moved out of Washington it became problematic. Changing my SSN was mostly easy. Oddly I got flack from the social security office, full on eye rolling and judgement for choosing the name I want. I only JUST learned that I can change my birth certificate. REJOICE!
Q v Qathi has become a filter, I introduce myself as Q in casual social settings, as a performer, my resume etc., as people get to know me more there seems to be a natural adoption to calling me Qathi in more intimate relationships. At home I’m Qathi, in public I’m Q, professionally people automatically call me Miss Q, which is fine with me, confounding, but fine. I live in the South now, it’s normal to address women, (especially older women) this way, deference and all.
Kathi though. No. Always no. I’ve always hated it for myself, it never felt like it fit me.
My brother has switched to a more “adult” nickname, but I stubbornly refuse to switch because it is my job as his little sister to make him mad in as many ways as possible 😉 In all other cases I do my best to call people the name they wish to be called. I tell me students on the first day of school “tell me now what nickname/middle name/version you want because if you let me learn it wrong it will stick!” and usually they comply, but occasionally they never say anything until half way through the year! One student likes to just subtly write her nickname on papers until you figure it out… sigh.
Yes! I was reading all these comments thinking “oh man, I’m going to have to start calling my brother Mitch instead of Mitchell” but this comment makes me feel better about just trying to bug him. 🙂 I will say that every guy I’ve dated immediately switched to Mitch even though it was hard for them since I never refer to him that way. They clearly knew that the respectful thing to do was to call him what he wanted.
Being a Jill, I also have the “that’s your whole name?” problem. Luckily, something about me (resting bitch face?) defies nicknames. Besides SOs, my dad is the only person who calls me by a nickname all the time. Other people have tried and it refuses to stick. My last name is highly nickname-able as evidenced by most of my cousin’s being called Hutch at some point in their lives but me… nope, no Hutch here. Just Jill.
For what it’s worth, as someone with a tiny name, I’ve always been jealous of those beautiful long names like Catherine, Elizabeth, Alexandra. So I would call you Catherine and I’d be jealous.
Caitlin here. As a kid I was called Catie by family, friends, teachers, everyone. And as a kid it fit me. It was cute and kid-like, and anyway there were too many Caitlins (in all their spellings) in the early 1990s. The nickname made it easier at school to figure out which one of us people were talking to. But as I hit the awkward preteen stage (10-12) I wanted to sound more adult and less cutesy. I became Caitlin, and it fit who I was and wanted to be. It’s taken me years to shed that nickname. I’m 26 now and haven’t shed it completely. Friends and coworkers use my given name, but my mother, father, and sister never will. I’ve just had to accept it, unfortunately. It takes a moment for me to register that they are even talking to me when they use it.
Jen(nifer)
Same story different name.
I prefer Jen or Jennifer. Not Jenny. Maiden name was Jensen. Jen Jensen Jenny Jensen Jennifer Jensen . Sometimes JJ, sometimes I would do the JMJ ( Jesus, Mary, and Joseph? No, Jennifer Margaret Jensen)
But since college, at least, I’ve just been Jen.
There are a select few that I allow to call me Jenny. They’ve practically known me my whole life.
In fact this summer at my longest and bestest friend’s wedding the place card said Jenny and my husband said, “you never go by Jenny! ”
“I know, but, with these people I do.”
Totally know where you’re comin from, Sista!
I’m also a Jennifer, and I actually can’t stand it. I became Jenna years ago!
I’m the kind of person who just got used to whatever I was called and don’t really care what people call me – I answer to all forms of my name, and it has many forms, both verbal and spelled. I can offer some info though – group meetings where people who call you two (or more) different things aren’t fraught, really.
My family has a nickname for me rooted in my parent’s native language, which none of my friends or anyone really speaks. At my wedding rehearsal, my partner’s family overheard my siblings use it regularly instead of my name, and me respond to it, and just mildly questioned what it even was, because its a strange name. But a quick explanation that it was a childhood family thing was all it took and everyone moved on, each just calling me what they called me already. There was no tension, only curiosity.
It’s really not that strange to be in situations where different people call someone by different names, so I doubt anyone would find it even really notable (eg. think of childhood going to a friends place and finding their parents called them something other than what you called them as a friend – you probably barely remember if you do at all!). Who knows – maybe hearing so many people call you by your full name might help some of the older friends make that transition.
I’m a Jennifer who can’t stand being called by her full name, because I just don’t like it much. There’s nothing wrong with it as a name, my complaint is that it’s boring (to me). Half the women of my generation are Jennifers! I don’t want to be called something it seems everyone else my age is called. Underscoring this, I went to school with a Jenifer N., Jennifer S., Jenn(ifer) P., Jen(nifer) M., and I think one or two others I’ve forgotten. Those were just the Jennifers in my exact grade, not counting the ones above or below me by a year.
Even the usual nicknames for Jennifer are boring and over-used! Everyone is or knows a Jen or Jenny. My older relatives always called me Jenny, which I also dislike. It feels childish, but I let my dad, uncles and grandparents call me that still because they’re family. In high school I was Jen, which I dislike slightly less vehemently – it’s not childish but it is still boring.
I know my parents meant well – they were trying to name me after my great-grandmother, but her name was Virgine. That’s a fine name for a woman born in Tarsus around 1900 but maybe not great for a woman born in America in 1980. So they decided to choose a related name, and there are plenty: Virginia (mom didn’t like it and frankly I don’t either, and dislike the nickname Ginny even more), Jennifer, Genevieve, Guinevere, Gwyneth (Welsh for Jennifer), Ginevra, even Gaynor (but nobody was ever going to name me that). But nooooOOOoooOOoo, they had to choose the most boring option, the one every parent from 1976-1982 was naming their daughter. I personally would have gone with Guinevere or Ginevra, but Gwyneth would have been acceptable.
In any case, I ended up with a name which I find boring in full and either boring or childish as a nickname. I always laugh when well-meaning advice-givers tell people it’s best to adhere to classic, well-known or easily understood names and to save the variation for a nickname or middle name, that burdening your child with something more unique will simply cause them problems and they’ll thank you for not doing so. Not true, at least not for me! I would have loved to have been given a unique/cumbersome/difficult/interesting name. Even as a kid.
In any case, by high school I felt done with both Jen and Jenny, and decided to become Jenna. I don’t hear it often, so it’s unique enough, and it’s close enough to my real name to be a plausible nickname. My family never fully made the switch, but I usually see them independently of my friends so that’s fine. Outside of Facebook I only keep in touch with a few high school friends, most of whom have made the change. I didn’t go to college with any high-school friends so I became Jenna at 18, and there are actually people who don’t know that my real name is Jennifer. A friend once bought me a plane ticket under ‘Jenna’ and it caused a big issue – and she was shocked after 6 years of friendship that she hadn’t known my original name was Jennifer. The change was that complete.
Cue my move to Asia, where ‘Jenna’ is possible but somehow difficult for some people. Janna, Jenny, Janet, Gina…I get all the variations. But people try, they really do. My sister, who also lives in Asia, calls me Jen and I’d prefer she didn’t, but she’s family, I let it slide.
Right now I’m in England working on a Master’s (but my full-time home-base is still in Asia). I thought “great – it’s hard in Asia for people to pronounce ‘Jenna’ sometimes, but in England this will be a fairly easy name, right?”
WRONG.
One classmate consistently calls me Jenny, and I had a teacher who just seemed so confused at the idea of “Jenna” – and she’s Polish, I really don’t get it, Janna is close enough and an actual Polish name. At one point she called me “Jeddah” (like the city in Saudi Arabia). I’m just…like…what? How is this so hard?
Most people have made the transition well, or never knew me by any other name. But I occasionally get a “Jenna? Can I call you Jen?” because they genuinely don’t know Jenna was a nickname to begin with. And yet, I still meet people who can’t wrap their heads around the name ‘Jenna’ and that baffles me. It’s not that hard.
I use Genevieve in my personal email handle. Occasionally someone who’s only ever heard me called Jen will ask me if it’s my actual name. There’s been one acquaintance who didn’t even ask, just referred to me as such in an email. That one amused me.
I also have trouble with people lengthening/formalizing my name. I introduce myself as Sue, conduct business as Sue, etc. Even when people have never seen a paper document about me, a lot of people call me Susan. This is NOT my name; my given name is Susanna, after my great-grandmother. I don’t mind Susanna (mind the spelling) but Susan grates on my ears. There were a lot of French people around where I grew up, so sometimes I got Suzanne. I think a lot of doctors’ office software truncates names, too, so sometimes it looks like Susan even when it isn’t. Now whenever someone lengthens my name to Susan, I say “Sue, please” in a somewhat grim-neutral tone. Susanna kind of sounds like I’m in trouble. At one point I started working at a place that already had a Sue and a Susan, and Susanna was on my resume, so I was stuck there. I put Sue on my resume after that. All of which is to say, I get it, lengthening is as unpleasant as shortening, and you can definitely ask people to change what they call you, and it may even work. Best of luck!
I hate my given name, Rebecca. My parents always called me Becky as a child; I really never grew up being called Rebecca, so it never felt like my real name. In junior high I decided to reinvent myself a bit and decided to change the spelling to Becki, which I have used ever since. “Rebecca” is only used on applications and doctor’s office forms and such, so “Rebecca”
is only used by people who don’t know me. I had a boss who kept calling me “Rebecca” for two years, even though no one else in the office did. Every time she said it, it felt like an insult, because it felt like she didn’t know me.
I find it incredibly important to be addressed by my proper name. Even with the whole Bachelorette phenomenon from the 2000’s, some people still haven’t heard of Trista, so over the phone people often think they hear Crystal or Trish or Kristen, which is fine once. But if I write an email with my name not only spelled in my email signature, but also *in my freaking email address,* I am infuriated by responses of “Hi Tricia,” “Dear Krista,” etc. If I spell my name out to you and you still insist on calling me Tristan, I will be forceful and angry. Things like this reflect a conscious decision to not call me by my correct name, but also a carelessness to not even pay attention to whom you are addressing.
I think names are so closely related to our identity that it’s important to be known and called by the name we choose and own. A name Means Something. I don’t think it’s petty at all for you to insist that your friends and family call you by the name you prefer, but I do understand how hard it is. I had a friend legally change her name after a divorce to something so drastically different that I still find it difficult to call her by the name she chose. I try really hard, but often just refrain from using her name at all so that I don’t cause offense.
I’m just always excited when the people at Starbucks spell my name correctly without me having to ask.
I am Ashlyn, but am frequently called Ashley or Ashland by people just meeting me. Depending on the length of interaction, I usually just let it slide but it is slightly irritating that despite what you say people often go with whatever name is most popular and familiar to the brain. My daughter(age 2) is Audriana and I really wanted her to maintain her full name, but from the very beginning my grandparents/her great-grandparents have called her Audri. She is now talking and calls herself Ana so I find myself referring to her as Ana about half the time. I’m afraid we are beginning to slide down the slope of nicknames, but I guess at least she kind of picked her nickname for family use. I’m hoping I can still keep her called Audriana in the world at large until she can really decide what she wants to be, but I don’t know how much hope I have given peoples’ inclination to shorten names, especially those of children. It bugs me so much when strangers will comment on her at a store or whatever, ask her name, and then when I say Audriana say something to the effect of “that’s such a big name for a little girl” as though your physical size must directly correlate to the number of syllables you can possess.
This is fascinating. As a Mary, I don’t often have people shortening my name. A very select few call me “Mer”, and I went through a few periods where I was called “Mimi”, but that’s about it. Every now and then my mother complains that no one calls me “Mary Jean”, and I remind her that she should have used a hyphen if she had wanted the double name to stick. Very few people actually refer to me by name, now that I think of it, which kind of makes me sad.
My daughter’s name is Georgia, and she has a pile of nicknames: Georgie, George, Gigi, Geeg, and G. I asked her which one she likes best and her response was “turkey” (my personal pet name for her). At school she is all Georgia, though.
No matter how hard I try people always end up calling me Jen, when I much prefer Jennifer so I feel you Catherine!
Another Jennifer here, born in 1978, with a zillion other Jennifers . . . My middle name is Camille, after my maternal great-grandmother, Nannie Camellia. In 3rd grade, I tried to get my music teacher to call me “Cam,” but I forgot I had requested that and didn’t respond to it. People have no problem calling me Jenn . . . but, honestly, I hate my name and all its nicknames, except maybe “Jennie.” But, only spelled that way. I would have loved to be a Catherine or something else regal like that.
My brother, William Samuel, went by Sam as a kid and successfully changed his identity to Will when he started high school.
Reading everyone’s replies makes me think about changing my name . . .
My parents named me Johanna (pronounced Jo-haw-na), after one of my Dutch great-grandmothers. When I was a baby my mother decided that the name would be “too hard” for people to pronounce, so she decided to shorten it to Hanna (pronounced like Hannah). When I was in 5th grade I wanted people to start pronouncing it “Hana”. My classmates and teachers all fell into line quickly, but my family thought it was ridiculous and completely refused (which is pretty ridiculous, since my mother did a similar thing when she was that age and still goes by her chosen nickname).
As an adult I use Johanna exclusively, but my family continues to call me Hanna and introduce me to people that way. So family and friends of the family call me Hanna, people I met between 2000 and 2008 call me Hana, and people I’ve met since then call me Johanna. I’ve found that I don’t much care what people call me these days, though it does get annoying when my family introduces me to people with my childhood nickname.
My mom named me Jessica (#1 girl name the year I was born) and has never called me that once in her life. Go figure. I was always Jesse or Jess, which I preferred, but the rest of my family and everyone at school used Jessica. I never really liked my full name, finding it both too formal and too common (3 Jessicas in every class in high school). But it wasn’t until probably 10th grade that I really made a point to request that people call me Jesse, and it’s stuck ever since. Now the most irritating thing is having to explain that yes it’s really spelled the boy way, not Jessie, not Jessy.
My name is Kathleen, also grew up as a Kathy. I go by Kat or sometimes Kathleen now. It doesn’t super bother me when the few people in my life who haven’t made the switch call me Kathy, but if it did and they refused to be respectful, that sounds like an asshole I wouldn’t want to be around.
You don’t owe anyone an explanation. The fact that you don’t like it should be enough for some who loves/respects you.
Another Stephanie here who haaates being called “Steph”. I’ve tried for 40 years to get my family to stop calling me “Steph” and it never stuck with them, much to my annoyance, but at least now when others automatically shorten my name, I can tell them that only family calls me that.
My husband, to his credit, has never once called me “Steph.”
I haven’t personally had this problem because I luckily have a one syllable name it really can’t be shortened. In fact, people tend to lengthen my name if they use a nickname! I get Brinkster, Brinky, BrinkyDink, etc.
My husband goes by two names. His family and anyone who met him through work calls him John. But everyone else, myself included, call use his last name. This is because in his group of friends there are two Johns so to differentiate both are called by their last name.
Another friend of ours was always Buddy because he shares a name with his father. But when he got out of high school he started trying to use his actual name so now, like you Catherine, there are two groups of people. High school and prior call him Buddy, post high school call him Dane. It doesn’t seem to bother him but if it did I would really make an effort to use Dane instead. I get that it’s hard to start calling someone something different after many years but if that’s what the person wants then I think it’s only fair to give it a shot!
My parents named me Jennifer Jessica, because they couldn’t pick between the two most popular names in the year I was born. Awesome. In third grade I tried out Jennie, and it was OK for a year, but didn’t stick. I was mostly just Jenn forever until I came across an article about making names more feminine by adding an “a” and BAM I HAD IT: Jenna.
I emailed everyone I knew and said they were to call me Jenna. Two years later I made it legally my name, and dropped my middle name.
I make exceptions to a few pre-Jenna people, IF they call me Jenn. But any time my parents say Jennifer I say… I’m sorry, that’s not my name.
I can relate! I went by “Becky” until I got to community college and I started telling people my name was Rebecca at jobs, at school and it actually stuck. My fiance actually met me as Becky but has respected my wishes and has called me Rebecca for the last six years. There are still a handful of friends who call me Becky and refuse to call me anything else, but I can deal with those people. Honestly, I don’t think anyone who wishes to be called something else should just get over themselves. If you don’t feel like a Cathy, then you have every right to NOT be called that. I HATED the name Becky. It’s so valley girl, and it felt like a name that was way too old for me (I was born in 1988, 28 now) and it just didn’t suit. Some people will shorten Rebecca to Becca which is just fine and dandy, and eons better than Becky, and some people who insist on Becky will call me “Becks” which is also way better. ANYTHING but Becky please. I feel you, you’re not alone and you’re not being ridiculous 🙂
Oof – I can relate to this so strongly. Yes, I agree “first world problem”… but it’s a DAILY problem and I’m so tired of it! I’m a Vivian that goes by Vivian or V, but people constantly shorten my name to “Viv” instead. Even family members who know that I dislike it. Similarly to yours, they don’t seem to do it maliciously, it’s just they “can’t shake” as you so aptly said.
Unfortunately, for whatever reason, “Viv” just has a chalkboard on nails affect on me – even when I read it in a text! I don’t know what it is – just something about my personality maybe – but I am not a “Viv” and wish people would ask if I have a nickname before assuming that that’s the one I use!
Oh my gosh, it’s so synchronistic that you mention the dreaded Vicky. I am a 47 year old who has been trying to change to Victoria for a year now. Luckily my family have only ever called me Victoria, thank god. But all my close friends are finding it quite hard. But about 90% of them are really making a valiant effort to self correct when they slip up and I’m very very grateful. However there are some who just wilfully will not make any effort and roll there eyes and sigh when I very politely correct them. Like I’m burdening their life.
What bugs the HELL out of me is when I introduce myself professionally (I’ve been Victoria professionally for 7 years) and then later they over hear one person calling me Vicky and they start calling me Vicky. I’m like….wha????? Maybe it’s just me but when someone introduces themselves to me as say, Josephine, if I then hear someone call them Jo Jo, there is no way I would randomly start calling them Jo Jo. Why would someone introduce themselves to you as a name they did not really want to be called?? I presume…(am I weird??)…that if you introduce yourself to me as a certain name then that is what you want to be called. No?? Yes??
I have changed greatly from Vicky to someone else. I am no longer that name and I actually associate it with a negative past. That is why it has now become so toxic to my ears. I truly wish it was not, as I know it is extremely cumbersome for people to adjust to. But they have to realise how much I hate it and cannot let it go unnoticed anymore. I’m nearly 50 for God’s sake!!! I actually find it all so stressful trying to change, I want to run away and be with only the new people that know me and respect me as Victoria. I know I sound like some first world wanker but when you are as old as me and you associate your nickname with a totally different character, it becomes like a total affront when people will just not respect to your initial introduction.
And I get embarrassed constantly correcting. It’s stressful. Anyway!! I needed to vent! thank you for posting this, it actually just made me feel better. Petty…I know!!! But life is life and I hate being called Vicky, so GET OVER IT. 😉 Much love……VICTORIA