Call Me By My Name
When I was a little kid, one of my grandfathers called me Fatso. It was one of the worst nicknames I’d ever have in life. I hated it. Despite my parents knowing how much I disliked being called Fatso, they still allowed my grandfather to call me Fatso until he died. As I got older, I did speak up and say I didn’t like it and was told to hush because he had nicknames for everyone. He called my sister Po’Gal, because she was thin. I couldn’t tell you if she was just as bothered about her nickname as I was but I didn’t like hers either. They were descriptors forced on both of us that highlighted the difference in our body sizes. Those nicknames were intentional in that our grandfather was specifically drawing attention to the difference in weight between us. It continued to puzzle and anger me as to why my parents would allow this and brush it aside as if I was making a big deal out of something harmless.
My sister called me NeNe. As a result of her calling me that, other family members would also address me as such. I have never liked that nickname. I have never introduced myself to anyone with that nickname. As cringe as it makes me feel, I allow my family and one unrelated person to call me the name. I figured that if they didn’t respect me enough to not allow my grandfather to call me Fatso, they surely wouldn’t stop calling me NeNe. My father’s best friend would call me NeNe to purposely annoy me. I also hated that and when I would tell him, it was like supplying the fuel for the neverending fire he needed to continue to call me something I asked him not to.
It got to a point where I was like fuck it because I tired of asking him to not call me NeNe anymore.
Fast forward through childhood and to my 20s. I have been called a plethora of things I don’t like to things I flat out hate. Each time I’ve made it clear to not call me these things. For those who refused, I stopped acknowledging they were talking to me because I stated who I am and I’d given the name I wanted to be called. Since they refused, there was no point responding or reacting. I would just pretend as if they were talking to someone else.
Being called something else other than your name or what you would prefer to be called isn’t something that everyone experiences in the same way. I have been experiencing this shit all my life, especially having a first name that is out of the ordinary. My name is Synitta but I have been called everything from Syd, Cynthia, Syndey, Shanita, and Nita to Cindy, Santee, and some other irrelevant shit that isn’t my fucking name. It’s annoyingly frustrating, especially when other people who are also misnamed make excuses for people who refuse to say my name correctly by saying, “it’s not that big of a deal.”
Maybe it isn’t to you but it is to me. It doesn’t end with my first name. It extends to everything about who I am and every name i identify with and by. It’s my fucking name. I should have a say in what it is and how it’s said. Right?
When I got married, my mother and mother-in-law refused to acknowledge that my last name had changed. It was fucking rude and disrespectful as shit considering if someone addressed them by their maiden names, they’d definitely express some form of side eye. Did I need to be married for decades for my last name to be respected? Should I have married someone my mother approved of enough to acknowledge the change? What do you do to get other people to call you what you want to be called, aside from repeatedly correcting them and hearing their meaningless apologies, knowing they’re going to misname you again? Imagine being married and receiving mail from two women who were married, writing your full name out with your maiden name. It’s a message, regardless of other people agreeing. We all know we can’t force people to do anything, but again, we can refuse to respond to them… like I had been doing with others.
Despite the relationship with the ex-husband not working out, I kept the last name because it means something to me. I never have to explain why I kept it or what it means to me in order for people to respect what I want to be called. However, people will still blatantly disregard and disrespect the use of my last name, refusing to use it and replacing it with my maiden name. Some people do this under the guise of not liking my ex-husband and how he treated me and the kiddo. However, they cling to the last name of another man who mistreated me AND the kiddo. I guess they think they’re picking the lesser of the two evils but they’re actually adding to the bullshit pot of life. I suppose some people just cannot help centering themselves where they shouldn’t.
It often reminds me of older people who refuse to address younger people as anything other than what they want to call them or their birth given name (see: how transgender people are treated with name changes). It also reminds me of all the people who refuse to acknowledge when someone legally changes their name, FOR WHATEVER REASON, and they proudly announce that they’ll be calling the person what they’ve always called them. While some people might be reading this and thinking to themselves, “it’s not that serious”, my reply to that is, “TO YOU.” And this is precisely why people refuse to call people what they want to be called… it’s not important enough. In simpler terms, they don’t care.
Imagine someone expressing disdain for your last name because you had an abusive mother/father. Imagine someone deciding to call you whatever the fuck they wanted to because the name you have isn’t to their liking or within their comfort zone of ease. Imagine another human being stripping you of autonomy by not respecting you enough to call you what you want to be called… because that’s what this boils down. A decision to respect or disrespect someone… and it might be considered harmless but I’m here to tell you that it isn’t. While a name IS a descriptor, it’s one we ultimately can choose for ourselves. Regardless of it being one we like enough to keep our entire life, or several we float through using throughout life. No one should feel entitled to naming us against our will. You know who also used to strip people of their autonomy by calling them whatever they wanted? Slave owners. Entire family legacies were lost due to names not being acknowledged.
I wish this would sink through the rock hard skulls of the people who cling to the disrespect that is calling people by anything other than what they want to be called.
Call me by name or don’t call me at all.
