Okay, itās come to this. A post about my name.
My fatherās given name is Charles, but to some people heās Chuck. To others, heās Charlie, and to others still, heās Chip. Different people call him different things, and that made sense to me growing up.
My given name is Stephen. When I was a kid, I hated the way āSteveā sounded. I insisted on being called Stephen. So, to my family, I was āStephen.ā I still am.
As I got older, I started to get a little concerned that the name Stephen sounded a little hoity-toity. A little too fancy for middle school. So, I started going by Steve. Through middle school, high school, college, and into my young adult life in Chicago, Ā I would introduce myself as āSteveā.
In the last few years, Iāve made some steps to get away from that nickname and go by the name I call myself: Stephen. If I meet new people, if I get involved in a new project or organization, Iāll go out of my way to introduce myself as Stephen. It is the name I prefer, because itās the name Iāve always preferred.
And while I appreciate my friends and coworkers picking up on this change, while I truly admire everyone for being respectful of a person'sā preferred name, I want to make it plain that if you called me Steve before, I donāt mind it at all and actually prefer if you keep calling me that.
I grew up with people calling my father every single nickname they could wring out of āCharlesā. It seems like Iāve inherited this murky mishmash of names, but strange as it sounds, I consider that a blessing.
So, in summation, call me Steve if youāve been doing that for years, because if I introduced myself to you as Steve, I did it because I wanted to and because I wanted you to call me that.
dailybridgerton
blakekathryn
andulkaphoto
turnnoffyourmind
jbbartram-illu
prguitarman
origamiaround
vaporwave
2087
baratheonpilled
snowghoul
