I loathe being called “Sue.”
I went by it in high school because I knew a cool, beautiful 20-something Sue (who am I kidding, it was mostly a rebellion against my mother’s preference for “Susan”). “Sue” was short-lived, though: when I went to college went back to “Susan.”
It’s not that I’m anti-nickname. In various circles, I’m called “SJ,” “Suze,” “Suzel,” “Suki,” “Soozels,” “Love,” “Doodles,” “SuSuKitten,” and “Suzie Poops.” In all cases, I love the nicknames and the people who call me by them. So my “Sue” resistance is clearly not a matter of formality.
What chafes me about “Sue” is that I always introduce myself as “Susan” and often, whoever I’ve just said my name to, shortens it. I’m sure it’s not ill-intentioned but rather an attempt at instant friendly intimacy. It isn’t a big deal: I always correct them and rarely has someone persisted in calling me what I don’t want to be called (although it has happened).
But it’s gotten me thinking about why and how we use nicknames. Why do they sometimes work wonders to create connection and sometimes they are a fart in the bathwater.
Brittanica says that nickname is “an informal name used to replace a formal one, often giving rise to familiar or humorous terms. The word nickname is derived from the Middle English ekename, literally meaning ‘also-name,’ via nekename.” (Which is cool since I wondered if it was a term coined by a guy named Nicholas.)
My wonderings sent me down rabbit holes of asking why we might call a Margaret “Peggy,” a John “Jack,” or (this was one I’d not heard before moving to Charlottesville) a Virginia “Jinx.” And why a waitress at an old-timey diner calling me “honey” is fine but when a flight attendant called me “honey” when I was 6, I thought my mother might rip her head off.
Nicknames can be a sign of affection and connection, but they can also be a way to bully or tease. We all know of names we’ve heard, given or received that are designed to demean. Using names that highlight someone’s appearance or personality can be a way of exerting quick precise pain and power over. Even a nickname that is given with affection in childhood that a family refuses to stop using can be cuttingly hurtful.
Weaponized nicknames are obviously toxic. But nicknames also don’t work when they are used either without permission or as an artificial accelerant to intimacy (as in the case of “Sue”). Yet what is more endearing than to be given a nickname from a place of affection, a private joke, or a shared experience? A well-used nickname makes me feel seen and loved.
Consider the nicknames you’ve been given and have given to others and how they feel to say and hear. Consider asking someone what they like to be called or if it’s ok for you to call them by a nickname. Consider asking someone to call you (or stop calling you) by a nickname.
Whether bestowed with affection or malice, either way, a nickname is a shorthand, an abbreviated expression of how we feel about someone. If words matter (and they do), then names really matter.
If we’re going to use shorthand with each other, may we use it as a quick communication of care.