I am becoming convinced that I was somehow cosmically mis-named. My given name is Jessica, but I went by Jessi for my first 23 years. I took advantage of a move across the country, and away from family, to reclaim my given name (I grew up 2 miles from Jesse James land, and hated the sound of it).
In the last 3 years, not a week goes by that someone calls me either “Jennifer” or “Rebecca”, for some reason. This is even on the phone, when they can’t see me. And no, I don’t have a speech impediment – my diction is extremely clear. On the phone: “This is Jessica M. calling about so-and-so.” … “Oh yes, Jennifer, that sounds fine.”
Or, the security guard at the building where I used to work. “Goodnight Rebecca! Oh sorry, no, you’re Jennifer, right??”
I’m starting to think I should just change the effing name. It just seems to be repetitive and persistent enough that I wonder if there’s something wrong with me. Any other Jessicas out there getting this? (and Jessica is quite a common name!)
Maybe I am dumb, but I wouldn’t know how to pronounce Azell and I sure as heck would assume your name was Carol Anne Something unless you told me otherwise. Anne as a last name has got to far less common than as the combined name Carol Anne.
I am a little surprised at all the annoyance in this thread. I expect to have to spell my oddly-spelled name, I expect people who have only heard it to assume it is spelled Brenda, and I am not surprised when folks don’t know how to pronounce it when they see it written (if they don’t know me, obviously). I can understand not liking a nickname that is pinned on you, but expecting everyone to know how to pronounce or spell unusual names seems a bit much. I figure it is the price I pay for having a cool name.
I was named after my Ukrainian grandmother so my name is spelt differently than most are used to: Stefanya or Stefanie on most documents. Throughout primary school, my forms said Steffi. I could deal with that but since hitting puberty the only people allowed to call me that is my grandmother. Period.
I go by Stef now and quite happily. The only people who call me Stefanie are my mother when I’m in it deep and my boss. Who spells it wrong despite insistance that my name is Stefanie Y not Stefanie J. My middle name is only Y.
I once had a boyfriend who made nicknames out of everyone’s name and he took the fatal step of calling me Steffi. I had always told everyone that ‘Steffi’ was off-limits. I asked my friend to remind him of these naming rules - only the grandmother or parent can you by the childhood nickname, Capisce??
What annoys me the most is when people ask what I go by (that would be Elizabeth) and then proceed to call me whatever the hell they want. It happened in school (why does a teacher bother asking a student what they prefer if they just ignore it?) and it happened when I was first hired. Because it was my first job out of college, I didn’t make a big fuss when one of the engineers on my project started calling me Liz. However, the project manager noticed and talked to the guy, suggesting that they call me by what I wanted to be called.
Of course, what further complicates matters is the fact that with different people, I go by different things. In school and in professional situations, it’s Elizabeth. My family calls me Beth (which started because my mom liked the KISS song). Thus, most of my good friends start calling me that, because they hear my family do it. Finally, in college I started introducing myself as Liz to people I met at parties or in bars because the loud music + alcohol sometimes made it hard for people to hear/say all 4 syllables.
Of course, my boyfriend’s family thinks I’m insane. When he first started dating me, I was Liz. Then after a few months I was Beth. The first time I met them, I said Elizabeth when I shook their hands.
My name is Mishell. Yeah, it’s spelled oddly. Yes, my parents are literate. I actually had a phone customer service person argue with me when I corrected their pronunciation, “It should be spelled M-I-C-H-E-L-L-E if that’s how it’s pronounced, your spelling should be prounounced “mishul”! You’re wrong!” :rolleyes: Things like that piss me off.
I don’t mind having to spell it, nor do I mind being asked how it’s pronounced. What I do mind, besides being told my pronunciation is wrong, is being called “Shelly.” The only people I will happily allow to call me Shelly are those who have known me since birth. My father’s new wife calls me Shelly and it drives me insane (mostly because she’s a psychopath and I despise her, if I liked her I don’t think I’d mind as much). Not even my boyfriend calls me Shelly (he could if he wanted to, but he seems to prefer Mishell). My friends and coworkers are shocked and amused when they hear that my family calls me Shelly. Apparently I just don’t look like a Shelly.
“Shell” is okay, provided you know me well. Otherwise, it’s Mishell, please.
In real life, my name is Jay. Just Jay. Not short for Jason (a perfectly fine name in it’s own right).
Please do not call me Blue Jay or Jay Bird. There are exactly zero people in all of recorded history that know me well enough to do that.
My last name is long and difficult to spell and pronounce. Our parents gave the six of us short first names in compensation for this.
As long as we are speaking of names, I would like to give some advice to new parents. Please give your children complete middle names. My youngest sister and I have middle initials only. This has caused much unnecessary grief throughout our lives. Schools and government agencies do not deal well with things that are out of the norm. I had to apply for my Social Security card three times. They assumed that I could not fill out their forms correctly.
I am glad to see this OP. I’ve always had strong feelings about my name. I’m happy to see others are adamant about their names.
Ladies, if your names were indeed Jenny, everyone would call you Jennifer.
I know this, because my name is Jenny. And they ask me if that’s a fact, like I’m telling some big lie and have to prove it. Yes, it’s like that on my birth certificate.
J-E-N-N-Y. Meh. I usually ignore people who call me Jennifer. It’s not my name, after all.
I’m with you on that one. My name is Lezlie. Yes, with a Z. Pronounced that way too. Hey, blame my mom, Ms. Originality. And yes, it was loads of fun being a female in grade school with my name as soon as everyone figured out what a Lesbian was.
:rolleyes:
Anyhoo, I don’t really give a crap if you misspell it. Hell, I expect you to misspell it. I’m the one with the wierd spelling, so I should be used to it. I also don’t start tripping if someone pronounces it “Leslie”. After all, 99% of the time, that is how it’s pronounced. Again, I’m the one who’s being different so it would be a bit silly for me to get all huffy when people assume my name is pronounced the standard way. My stepdad has been calling me “Leslie” for the past 20 years. Shrug I know who he’s talking to.
What used to drive me nuts is when friends of mine would get all huffy when people said my name with an “s”. Dude, if I don’t care, neither should you. I don’t want people thinking I’m one of those prissy types who gets all bent out of shape when someone dare mispronounce their unusual name!
The only think that irks me a tad bit is when people call me “Les”. Mostly because that’s my dad’s name (gee, who am I named after?) and so I think the person is talking to him (even though he lives in a different country). But I’m not going to “shoot daggers” or do any of the other crazy overreactive responses people have shared in this thread.
Yes, it’s annoying when people call you something you don’t like after you’ve told them not to. But if someone doesn’t know, I think it’s a bit much to get all uppity about it. Especially if you’re the one with the non-standard pronunciation or spelling.
I am not Elizabeth or Bethany or anything else but Beth.
My teacher actually called my parents in elementary school because I refused to write “Elizabeth” on my standardized tests no matter how much she explained to me that it needed to be my 'real" first name, not what people “just call” me.
[singing]
When it’s least expected!
You’re elected!
It’s your lucky day!
Smile!
You’re a flying firebreathing turtle who is a friend to children!
[/singing]
My maiden name was Italian, and ended in a silent E.
If anyone ever pronounced it right the first time, I can’t remember it. I’ll never know why that E was such an obstacle. Ever hear of a band called the Ramon-ees? No? That’s because they were called the Ramones. No, my maiden name wasn’t Ramone, but same principle: the E was silent.
Most people, after I’d corrected them, got it right from then on. Some didn’t, but I chalked that up to carelessness. With one exception. I had a college professor who refused to pronounce it the way five generations of my father’s family have pronounced it. He insisted that his pronounciation was correct, and the name had been corrupted somewhere down the line. His final word on the subject was that he had studied Latin.
Well, whoop-de-freakin’-do. Had he not been a professor, and one who pulled a lot of weight at that school, no less, I would have told him exactly how much I cared about his Latin studies. Unfortunately, I had to suck it up. But god damn it, if someone whose name reads “Asswipe” tells you it’s pronounced “Oz-weep-ay”, you bloody well pronounce it “Oz-weep-ay”!
Actually, if someone pulled that on me today, I’d know enough to raise my chin and address a spot on the wall over their head: “That is the name my great-grandfather brought to this country from Turin in 1900. If you inisist on being pedantic, I can’t stop you, but to pronounce it ‘your’ way is a great insult to my family and their history.” :dubious: Hindsight: 20/20. Meanwhile, my married name (also Italian) ends with a pronounced I. No one gets that wrong.
I had sort of a similar experience once. There was a Japanese restaurant in Berkeley called Manga Manga, and I wanted to find out their hours so I called information.
me: I need the number for Manga Manga in Berkeley please.
dumb Italian operator: Actually, it’s pronounced “manzheea manzheea”.
me: Uh, I don’t think so.
dummy: Yeah it is. I’m Italian.
me: Well that would be a strange name for a Japanese restaurant, wouldn’t it?
dummy: Oh. Well here’s the number.
I mostly go with Mike and only get called Michael whenever someone gets formal with me. I always introduce myself as Michael though and later accept “Mike” if you’re cool. My GF has never, in her entire life, called me Michael (nor has my parents or sister except if they’re talking about me to a 3rd party). I only accept “Mikey” from cute women
My middle name is Japanese and it’s the only name my parents, sister and assorted close Japanese family friends can call me. Anyone not Japanese just can’t say it without it sounding weird.
One point that does bother me though. The spelling. Michael is not spelt E-A-L. Why people think that? I don’t know. I see the EAL spelling probably 50% of the time and it’s just weird. I guess no one really looks at how Michael Jordan or Michael Jackson spells their names. Sheesh.
Everyone should call me Leslie when they first meet me, because that’s what I introduce myself to them as.
Everyone should at least ask how to spell my name before they write it down somewhere.
Only a few people are allowed to call me “Les”… and that’s a short list. (most of my friends call me Leslie, but one of them always calls me Les… when I don’t want him to!)
I could add a fourth point, but don’t particularly want to.
My first name is Leah (pronounced LEE-uh). It’s biblical. It’s not from that 70s movie. I am not a princess (well, not of any recognized government).
My usual response to the 489,734th person to say, “Oh, is that like Princess Leia?” (because they are the FIRST one to think of such a clever comment to make, you know) is “Do I have buns on the sides of my head? No? It’s LEE-uh.”
My name is Steven, and so many people call me “Steve” as a matter of course, that I’ve taken to using to using my given name as a kind of reverse nickname. That is, people who call me “Steve” do so because they don’t know me well, and my close friends and family all call me Steven, which betokens our closeness.
My name is Ross. It enrages me BEYOND THE POINT OF COMPREHENSION if people assume it’s my second name, I MEAN GAHAGAHAHAHA…
Not really. I don’t care what you call me. If I know you’re talking to me, I’ll respond. If not, you’ll have to explain it to me. If the name is deliberately intended to insult me, or undermine me or something, I may object if I am likely to have to go through it regularly. Otherwise, what do I care what people call me? It’s the telephone number, not the conversation.
I probably got this way through years of working in nursing and geriatric homes. In one I was known variously as “Alex”, “Brian” and “Mr Ainsley” by particular residents, sometimes because they thought I was a lost son or something, and the names got further confused by lots of others who thought they’d picked up my name from the geriatric residents but had actually got it wrong. A few people called me “Ross”, too.
Also “Ross” isn’t a particular evocative or meaningful or cool name, so I probably grew up using it merely as a convenient tag. It’s just… the number you call to get me to go “Hello?”
I had a rather annoying experience with this topic a few days ago at work. I went in to evaluate a new patient, and (as always) introduced myself – “Hello, my name is Valerie, and I’ll be the nurse taking care of you today.”
The patient starting telling me her tale of woe, and addressed me as “Vaaaaaal” (imagine a long drawn out drawl). Because she didn’t pronounce other words in that manner, I could only assume that she was emphasizing the use of the nickname.
I have no problem being called Val by my husband, my family, my coworkers, my friends. It’s my nickname. I like it. But I really have a problem with it from someone I just met five minutes ago, especially since it breaks down the professional distance between nurse and patient. It’s not appropriate, IMO.
The second time she did it I looked her dead in the eyes and said, “Ma’am, my name is Valerie.” Not rude or condescending, but firm. I was “Miss Valerie” for the rest of the visit
