Call me by my Name
Call me by my name.
Not the name you created, because mine’s so hard.
Not the one you prefer, because the last time you really knew me, I was four years old.
Not the one you know was given to me at birth, when I had no say in it.
Call me by my damned name!
This is a familiar rant for anyone who has changed their name. Whether it was choosing to drop a family nickname, or publicly taking a name of their own choosing when going through transition to the correct gender. For some of us, it’s because we use a different name than our birth name-- sometimes it’s a nickname of our choosing, or just choosing to use a name we like. No matter how we came to this name, it ours, and that’s what we want to be called.
Let me explain a little.
My birth name is not Emma. This is my chosen name. I’ve used it publicly for almost 20 years. It’s how I sign my name, if I don’t just use an initial. It’s how I answer the phone; it’s the name I am introduced by, and the one I introduce myself by.
Emma is my name.
In the same way I never use my middle name (so much so that I’ve had people ask me if I even have one), I don’t use my birth name. That's not to say I hate my birth name-- it just isn’t me. It’s not the name I think of when I think of myself, or the person that I see when I look in the mirror.
I know I’m not the only person who feels this way. I also believe that this is a valid way to feel, and a valid way to live my life.
Sometimes we change our names when circumstances change; a birth of a child can lead to a name change; so can marriage, divorce, the death of a parent, the assumption of religious vocation, the leaving of a religion. There are a thousand different reasons to change one’s name, and each one is valid. Even if the reason seems trite to another person, such as, “I just never liked my birth name”-- that is absolutely good enough, and should be respected.
I have found, however, that often these reasons are discarded by the very people who claim to love you unconditionally and who are supposed to always be there to support you: your family.*
In my own family, people still call me by my birth name. Often there’s an emphasis on it-- as if they’re trying to remind me that this is what I used to be called, and they don’t want me to forget. If it’s said with the same emphasis as any other word in the sentence, I don’t take it personally-- I just mentally shrug. But you see, this birth name isn’t a “dead name”, so I can ignore it.**
What I’m having a hard time ignoring is this one particular nickname that only one person uses. Just one… my grandmother. And of course, it’s what she’s called me since I was born. And I have told her about a zillion times that, “No, Grandma, I’m not 4 years old any more. Stop calling me that. I hate it!” For the sake of this blog post, we’ll pretend that nickname is "Peanut" (which is absolutely isn’t).
“Oh, I forgot! But you know, you’re still my grandbaby, and you’ll always be my little "Peanut"”, she coos… as if I’m actually 8, and so such a big girl now /sarcasm.
Then she’ll stop for a few weeks (or a few Facebook messages, whichever comes first). And then she’ll start in again with that dreaded, stupid, infantilizing nickname. The one I have told her over and over that I won’t answer to--and then I get to see a very old woman pout because I won’t answer her FB messages… because she won’t stop calling me "Peanut".
Now, please remember, I’m 40 years old. I have two adult children (one is nearly 21!), and my youngest kid just turned 14. In no way am I still a "baby"… I own a home and have a mortgage! I have several lines of credit, with various banks. I have a job, insurance, and property taxes; I participate in politics, vote regularly, attend “functions”, and give to charity. I’m just about as adult as you can get, and still watch bugs with amusement.
But in her mind, I’m still "Peanut". Forget the fact that my own children are all old enough to have children of their own (biologically… thank you Science that they aren’t procreating right now!) And nevermind the fact that I’ve damned near begged her since I was 14 not to call me "Peanut". In her mind, that’s who I am, and that’s who I’ll stay.
I’m more than half afraid that when she dies, I’ll be asked to give a eulogy, and called up as "Peanut". I’m also curious if that’s the name she’ll put me under, in her Will (if she has one, and if I'm actually in it).
Now, I know this sounds petty, and I get it-- family nicknames are often easy to inherit and hard to discard. At the same time, I’ve been upset by "Peanut" for almost four times as long as I was ok with it. I’ve asked that she not call me that name for over 25 years. That’s a very long time to purposely, and knowingly, do something you were asked not to do. That goes beyond, “I forgot” and heads straight into, “I couldn’t be arsed to care what you think, I’ll do whatever I want, completely disregarding how you feel about it.”
And that, my readers, is where I’m bothered by it.
If she had gone from "Peanut" to Emma, that would be just fine with me. If she called me by my birth name, I might still get annoyed, but it would be more respectful than “Peanut”. It’s the complete and utter lack of self awareness surrounding “Peanut” that bothers me so much!
I see it in the lives of others, too. And in many cases, the naming conventions chosen by family is much more egregious than “Peanut”. There are wonderful, amazing, strong people who are called all sorts of stupid, belittling names by family; and always in so-called love and affection. People who have shorn themselves of the gender assigned at birth, embracing their true selves, only to be called by the wrong gender, with incorrect pronouns, with a name that invokes hurt and pain, and brings back all the hardships that gender dysphoria creates in a person’s life.
Rather than adjusting, and accepting, many families willfully choose to inflict this kind of harm, and expect the person being harmed to just roll with it. “Well, that’s their name”, the family members say, as if no one ever changes. “I just forgot,” and “I just don’t see them that way”-- as if the way the family member is choosing to address someone is the only way a person can be.
It’s rude, and it’s demeaning. It’s cruel, sometimes, and harsh. It’s taking agency away from a person, and tossing it into the bins, because you can’t be bothered to give a shit.
Some adults don’t want you to use a nickname at all. Say your name is John, you have myriad nicknames to choose from-- but if you don’t want to be called anything but John, that is your prerogative, and therefore, you’re John. Not Jonny; not Jack, not Jay. John. Your family needs to understand and accept this… and honestly, it shouldn’t be that big of an issue.
I would love to sit people down in a seminar. People who Dead Name; people who use stupid nicknames for everyone they meet; people who refuse to use adult names for their family members; people who call 40 year old women names like “Peanut”.
It would be a short seminar. I’d get out a bullhorn, turn it up and say:
So, STOP Doing That!
Stop calling adults by cutesy nicknames that they grew out of when they entered kindergarten.
Stop calling adults by the wrong gender pronouns.
Stop Dead Naming people.
Respect their choices, and Call Them By Their Names!
For fuck’s sake, just call me by my name.
NB: You'll notice that every time I've used the phrase dead name, I have linked it to the Gender Wiki. I did this on purpose. First, it's a very serious and terrible thing that causes harm. Trans* kids have committed suicide because their birth families have refused to call them by their Names (the chosen one), and continued to dead name them. Second, it is a form a trans*phobia and, in my opinion, oppression of trans*persons. You're erasing them when you dead name them. You're killing them. So, stop that shit!
Also, the Gender Wiki is pretty fucking awesome, and if you have questions about gender identity, check them out!! Repeat after me: Learning is good, m'kay!
*While this is intensely frustrating for me, I can’t imagine the depth of sadness and anger that trans* persons have to deal with, when it comes to their families and being “dead named” after a transition.If you know someone who changed their name, do not use the dead name… just don’t!
**If you insist on “dead naming” someone, you’re abusing them. That name isn’t who they are any more… Stop Doing That! Use the name they told you to use, and use the correct fucking pronouns! Otherwise, they can call you by any damned name they choose… and I hope it’s “Fuckwit”.
Not the name you created, because mine’s so hard.
Not the one you prefer, because the last time you really knew me, I was four years old.
Not the one you know was given to me at birth, when I had no say in it.
Call me by my damned name!
This is a familiar rant for anyone who has changed their name. Whether it was choosing to drop a family nickname, or publicly taking a name of their own choosing when going through transition to the correct gender. For some of us, it’s because we use a different name than our birth name-- sometimes it’s a nickname of our choosing, or just choosing to use a name we like. No matter how we came to this name, it ours, and that’s what we want to be called.
Let me explain a little.
My birth name is not Emma. This is my chosen name. I’ve used it publicly for almost 20 years. It’s how I sign my name, if I don’t just use an initial. It’s how I answer the phone; it’s the name I am introduced by, and the one I introduce myself by.
Emma is my name.
In the same way I never use my middle name (so much so that I’ve had people ask me if I even have one), I don’t use my birth name. That's not to say I hate my birth name-- it just isn’t me. It’s not the name I think of when I think of myself, or the person that I see when I look in the mirror.
I know I’m not the only person who feels this way. I also believe that this is a valid way to feel, and a valid way to live my life.
Sometimes we change our names when circumstances change; a birth of a child can lead to a name change; so can marriage, divorce, the death of a parent, the assumption of religious vocation, the leaving of a religion. There are a thousand different reasons to change one’s name, and each one is valid. Even if the reason seems trite to another person, such as, “I just never liked my birth name”-- that is absolutely good enough, and should be respected.
I have found, however, that often these reasons are discarded by the very people who claim to love you unconditionally and who are supposed to always be there to support you: your family.*
In my own family, people still call me by my birth name. Often there’s an emphasis on it-- as if they’re trying to remind me that this is what I used to be called, and they don’t want me to forget. If it’s said with the same emphasis as any other word in the sentence, I don’t take it personally-- I just mentally shrug. But you see, this birth name isn’t a “dead name”, so I can ignore it.**
What I’m having a hard time ignoring is this one particular nickname that only one person uses. Just one… my grandmother. And of course, it’s what she’s called me since I was born. And I have told her about a zillion times that, “No, Grandma, I’m not 4 years old any more. Stop calling me that. I hate it!” For the sake of this blog post, we’ll pretend that nickname is "Peanut" (which is absolutely isn’t).
“Oh, I forgot! But you know, you’re still my grandbaby, and you’ll always be my little "Peanut"”, she coos… as if I’m actually 8, and so such a big girl now /sarcasm.
Then she’ll stop for a few weeks (or a few Facebook messages, whichever comes first). And then she’ll start in again with that dreaded, stupid, infantilizing nickname. The one I have told her over and over that I won’t answer to--and then I get to see a very old woman pout because I won’t answer her FB messages… because she won’t stop calling me "Peanut".
Now, please remember, I’m 40 years old. I have two adult children (one is nearly 21!), and my youngest kid just turned 14. In no way am I still a "baby"… I own a home and have a mortgage! I have several lines of credit, with various banks. I have a job, insurance, and property taxes; I participate in politics, vote regularly, attend “functions”, and give to charity. I’m just about as adult as you can get, and still watch bugs with amusement.
But in her mind, I’m still "Peanut". Forget the fact that my own children are all old enough to have children of their own (biologically… thank you Science that they aren’t procreating right now!) And nevermind the fact that I’ve damned near begged her since I was 14 not to call me "Peanut". In her mind, that’s who I am, and that’s who I’ll stay.
I’m more than half afraid that when she dies, I’ll be asked to give a eulogy, and called up as "Peanut". I’m also curious if that’s the name she’ll put me under, in her Will (if she has one, and if I'm actually in it).
Now, I know this sounds petty, and I get it-- family nicknames are often easy to inherit and hard to discard. At the same time, I’ve been upset by "Peanut" for almost four times as long as I was ok with it. I’ve asked that she not call me that name for over 25 years. That’s a very long time to purposely, and knowingly, do something you were asked not to do. That goes beyond, “I forgot” and heads straight into, “I couldn’t be arsed to care what you think, I’ll do whatever I want, completely disregarding how you feel about it.”
And that, my readers, is where I’m bothered by it.
If she had gone from "Peanut" to Emma, that would be just fine with me. If she called me by my birth name, I might still get annoyed, but it would be more respectful than “Peanut”. It’s the complete and utter lack of self awareness surrounding “Peanut” that bothers me so much!
I see it in the lives of others, too. And in many cases, the naming conventions chosen by family is much more egregious than “Peanut”. There are wonderful, amazing, strong people who are called all sorts of stupid, belittling names by family; and always in so-called love and affection. People who have shorn themselves of the gender assigned at birth, embracing their true selves, only to be called by the wrong gender, with incorrect pronouns, with a name that invokes hurt and pain, and brings back all the hardships that gender dysphoria creates in a person’s life.
Rather than adjusting, and accepting, many families willfully choose to inflict this kind of harm, and expect the person being harmed to just roll with it. “Well, that’s their name”, the family members say, as if no one ever changes. “I just forgot,” and “I just don’t see them that way”-- as if the way the family member is choosing to address someone is the only way a person can be.
It’s rude, and it’s demeaning. It’s cruel, sometimes, and harsh. It’s taking agency away from a person, and tossing it into the bins, because you can’t be bothered to give a shit.
Some adults don’t want you to use a nickname at all. Say your name is John, you have myriad nicknames to choose from-- but if you don’t want to be called anything but John, that is your prerogative, and therefore, you’re John. Not Jonny; not Jack, not Jay. John. Your family needs to understand and accept this… and honestly, it shouldn’t be that big of an issue.
I would love to sit people down in a seminar. People who Dead Name; people who use stupid nicknames for everyone they meet; people who refuse to use adult names for their family members; people who call 40 year old women names like “Peanut”.
It would be a short seminar. I’d get out a bullhorn, turn it up and say:
So, STOP Doing That!
Stop calling adults by cutesy nicknames that they grew out of when they entered kindergarten.
Stop calling adults by the wrong gender pronouns.
Stop Dead Naming people.
Respect their choices, and Call Them By Their Names!
For fuck’s sake, just call me by my name.
NB: You'll notice that every time I've used the phrase dead name, I have linked it to the Gender Wiki. I did this on purpose. First, it's a very serious and terrible thing that causes harm. Trans* kids have committed suicide because their birth families have refused to call them by their Names (the chosen one), and continued to dead name them. Second, it is a form a trans*phobia and, in my opinion, oppression of trans*persons. You're erasing them when you dead name them. You're killing them. So, stop that shit!
Also, the Gender Wiki is pretty fucking awesome, and if you have questions about gender identity, check them out!! Repeat after me: Learning is good, m'kay!
*While this is intensely frustrating for me, I can’t imagine the depth of sadness and anger that trans* persons have to deal with, when it comes to their families and being “dead named” after a transition.If you know someone who changed their name, do not use the dead name… just don’t!
**If you insist on “dead naming” someone, you’re abusing them. That name isn’t who they are any more… Stop Doing That! Use the name they told you to use, and use the correct fucking pronouns! Otherwise, they can call you by any damned name they choose… and I hope it’s “Fuckwit”.
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