I know someone.
I call them my lil’peanut.
They hate it.
But, I’m a nickname type of person. I pick a personality point or a physical thing and do beckdawrek type magic in my head, and nicknames spew forth. I can’t stop myself.
I’ve got a few nicknames for Dopers. I’ll not tell most. Some embarrass me or disturb others.
OMG - we didn’t go to elementary school together, did we??
There was a girl in my class who tried to stick cutesy nicknames on everyone. For example, the girl whose last name was Snyder was dubbed “Snydley” - clever, huh? She tried something similar with my last name also. Not that anyone paid attention to the nickname giver - she was regarded as obnoxious.
Then there’s my ex-sister-in-law who kept calling my daughter Squirt when she was little. I so wanted to break her stoopit face!!
On the other hand, maybe the problem lies in the nickname-giver rather than the actual nicknames. I couldn’t stand either my classmate or my ex-SIL.
Years later, when I was in the Navy, a fellow sailor had a brain fart and couldn’t remember my name, so he called me Fred, and that stuck for a couple of years (till I transferred.) I didn’t mind that at all.
In conclusion, it’s not the nickname, it’s the nicknamer and the intent. So you’re good. I know you’re glad I approve.
Hey, as long as the nickname isn’t offensive (fatty), racist (Spic-ee), or you are told by someone not to call them that its cool. Especially the last one no matter if its harmless and in fun.
My cousins were called Rick the Spic and Rex the Mex throughout school. Rex just took it in stride, Rick would get in your face and fight you.
My Daddy dubbed me ‘beckdawrek’ when I was a very small girl.
He sang alittle diddy when he said it.
Apparently I was a klutz.
That’s how I got to ballet class at age 3.
There’s one guy from high school who always called me by a goofy nickname based on my last name. I kind of liked it! We didn’t really run in the same crowd (he was into cars and heavy metal and I was a typical nerd), but it obviously showed some kind of friendliness from him.
I was one of those kids who wouldn’t eat. My name was Chucky, but my sisters (both older) decided Chunky was better, because I was anything but chunky. The name stuck, and was used more than my real name. As I grew up it became Chunk. I’m now called that mostly by people I’ve been bonded to for 50+ years, so I like the name.
My name is Julia, which becomes “Jules”, which became “Verne” to my family long ago, especially after Jim Varney started doing those “Hey Vern” commercials.
I don’t mind it. I like both the sci-fi author and Ernest.
I had nicknames when I was younger. In high school, I was “Pistol Pete” – which was the name of a famous basketball player (Pistol Pete Maravich), but also rhymed with my last name.
In college, I was “Herb” for a year or two, thanks to the terrible Burger King ad campaign from that era, about a nebbishy guy who had never eaten at Burger King; the name was “given” to me by a dorm neighbor, and it became so commonly used by my dorm-mates that there were some girls in our dorm who did not, in fact, realize it wasn’t my real name. (Also, my girlfriend in college was named Meg; the two of us were, thus, referred to by our friends as “Herb and Marge,” which made us sound like a middle-aged couple. )
I haven’t had a nickname that stuck for any length of time since then.
I agree (which is the problem I have with the OP). People are entitled to have control of their own identity. Calling somebody by a name (or pronoun) that they have asked you not to use is disrespecting them.
Son-of-a-wrek had an unfortunate nickname as a kid. I used to tell him if he ran off in a big store I was going to the service desk and have him paged by his nickname. He still clings to me if we’re out together.
But I bet you could stop it if you realized the harm you were doing.
Sorry, raw nerve. I had a dad who’d give people nicknames. If they objected, he loved that. It was another way he could remind you that you were basically powerless, because he wouldn’t listen to pleas to stop. Had a frat brother in college, same deal. It was a low-level bullying. There’s no way the person squirming under an undesired nickname is on the same level of power as the nicknamer.
.
(Oh, and for anyone thinking “Oh, dads just do that. He didn’t want power over others…”, this was the WW2 vet who, during the Vietnam days would drag my hippie friends down to his workshop, call their dads and ask if it was all right if he gave them a crewcut.)
(I’m so sorry, Judson…)
)