I knew a guy in high school who insisted on calling me Shelly. Drove me up the wall. The only people who get to call me Shelly and actually receive any response are people who knew me when I was 5. I still don’t like it much, but I allow it from family. Even my fiance calls me Mishell. I also tolerate it from my father’s new wife, but only because I can’t think of a civil way to tell her to call me Mishell when my father, sisters, grandparents, aunts, uncles, and cousins all call me Shelly. Every time I hear the word “Shelly” cross her lips, I want to slap her, but it seems a bit petty of me, so I just put up with it.
My grandfather’s name was Richard. Everyone knew him as Dick. My father used to get quite upset when I called my brother a dickhead “Don’t use your Pop’s name like that!” he would yell.
How can I tell if I am saying Rick or Rik? Is one variant more “hip” then the other? If I say Rik but think Rick, is that ok?
Just feel happy you ain’t a Dick. 
I wasn’t suggesting cutsey spellings of common names was cutsey.
No Siree Sir Rik.
Not at all.
I’d never call a grown man Ricky unless he really insisted on it.
As it is though, anyone who feels the need to stress the difference between Rick and Rik is someone I would generally shy away from in most situations.
Hell, throughout my schooldays I’d have given my right arm to be called by some variant of my right name. :rolleyes:
Lighten up, Francis.
That’s nothing, I have a friend whose name is Richard. Sure they started out calling him Richard but then…
Richard=Dick=Sperm=Merps
And the name has stuck for years.
So mommy and daddy gave you a name and you get mad when people call you by a common nickname based on that name?
Your parents are evil.
I’ll answer to Francis, but there are only three people in the world who may call me Frankie and live. My co-workers and my company’s clients hold none of that set of people. If you’re not my aunt, call me Frank or Francis.
My two brothers’ names are Richard and Andrew. They hate to be called Dick and Andy. My male siblings and I are down with the OP.
It may sound a petty rant, but if you have ever been wilfully called the wrong name, you know how much it rankles!
Since I was a tiny child, I have been known as a diminutive of my given name. I don’t really like either version, as one is stuck-up, and the other childish, but I’ll take childish over stuck-up any day.
I have always identified as my diminutive, and since I was aware how to spell, have preferred the simplest, most standard spelling.
BUT I have an aunt, who right up until my late teenagerhood, would have fits of refusing to call me by MY name but insisted on using my formal name. “It’s a beautiful name, you were christened with that name, and it’s a crying shame that noone uses it, it’s time someone put that right” etc etc.
As a kid it enraged me and made me feel degraded in some way. Finally when I was older I was able to put into words how her actions made me feel - that the person who I am is somehow not good enough for my aunt, and that she feels she has to impose her will upon my sense of self.
She understood and apologised. I still have to deal with the cousin who insists on spelling my name a different way each time she addresses an envelope…
On one hand, I feel for the OP. My name is Elizabeth, and I don’t like to be called Liz. But even worse than being called Liz is being called “Liz…I mean ELIZABETH.” So, I sympathize with that part.
But the whole “I changed it from Rick to Rik, but I don’t want to be cutesy” thing really lost me. Rik is kinda girly. Like my sister-in-law is Nicole, but she goes by Niki or Nik. Nicolas Cage, OTOH, goes by Nic. Not that he’s a bastion of manlihood or anything. How about Ric Ocasek? There ya go. A genuine funny looking rock star married to a genuine supermodel.
(Note that Nikki Sixx and Rikki Rocket were of the hair band era, so they dont’ count.)
Hardy har, har, you jokers. He was obviously talking about shortening the spelling, not the pronunciation.
Those of you who think this is a lame rant obviously haven’t ever had someone deliberately insist on calling you a name you hate, despite repeated requests not to. That’s just disrespectful and downright rude, not to mention a pretty lame form of passive aggression. Such a person instantly loses MY respect.
My first name is fluffy enough, thank you, and I DO NOT LIKE it when someone assumes familiarity they do not possess by cutesying it up even further.
Shouldn’t that be Dik?
Sure I have. My brother’s friends always called me Jules. I hated it. They continued doing it because I hated it.
And then I grew up.
One supposes you can’t help how you feel, but that still strikes me as the most pretentious, self-indulgent thing I’ve read in a very long time. The bit about her imposing her will on your sense of self was particularly egregious.
Listen up Richard, Francis, Andrew, Elizabeth, Michelle, Robert, etc.
When mom and dad gave you that name they were fully aware that the world contained a billion or so people who might just call you by a common nick-name of the proper name you were given.
What they may have failed to do is to inform you that whatever people call you they are talking to YOU. They also may have failed to tell you that if you dislike any of these nicknames don’t let on to those billion or so people that you are offended. About a half-a-billion of them will find that fact terribly amusing and will forever more call you by noithing other than that name you despise.
Yes, it sounds like it would be a very sticky name. 
What about Rik-a-lik-a-ding-dong?
My older brother calls me Timmy still sometimes, so I call him Bob back. My best friend picked up on it twenty years ago while we were all still in high school, so I call him Mikey back. My wife picked it up from the previously mentioned two. I don’t call her Krissy back. I’m more scared of her than my brother and friend. 
I’ve always blessed my parents for giving me a name that’s impervious to diminuation. Of course, I’m not all that fond of it in general, but at least I don’t have to put up with people calling me a version I like even less.
On the other hand, the OP is a lucky lucky bastard. I have a cousin named Richard too. The problem is his last name. Lust.
Good thing he’s a big bastard, or he’d be unable to convincingly threaten to tear people who call him “Dick” limb from limb.
You may call him Rich or Rick or Ricky or Ritchie, but if you call him Dick, there’s going to be trouble.
My name is Cathy. Generally, I have one of two problems. The first is people who insist that “Cathy” is a nickname and must be short for something else. Sure, Cathy is frequently short for Catherine, Cathleen (Katherine, Kathleen), so I don’t mind someone asking. It’s the people who insist that my name is NOT Cathy that piss me off. People have actually argued with me about it. “No one is named ‘Cathy.’ It’s always short for something else.” It’s been my name for 41 years. I’m pretty sure it’s just Cathy.
The other problem is people who don’t know me well deciding it’s okay to call me “Cath.” My family and friends call me some variant of Cath or Cat, which I rather like. But if you’ve worked with me for a week, or you just met me at a party, you don’t call me Cath. I don’t even know you!
BTW, Hi Elizabeth!