From childhood you’ve been named and renamed.
You were named by your parents. Given nicknames by friends, family, and enemies. Some described how you rocked the socks off of people. Others had far more cynical meanings.
Names have power. They communicate who or what we are. The names you’re called can even affect the way you view yourself.
You know how hard it is to feel like an extreme falcon-headed combat machine when somebody calls you “Chicken Man”?
— Rick Riordan
I think back to my childhood and the names I’ve been called. Some of my names were great.
Joey, son, brother, comic, friend, smarty pants, love… The list goes on.
Other names stung.
Smart aleck, jolly green a**hole (yes, a schoolmate actually called me this because I was tall and jolly), nerd, geek.