Nicknames—and How They Can Hurt

My friend Nina calls me “Brookley.”

She’s the only one I allow to do so. All of my other friends call me “Brooke.”

The first time Nina called me Brookley, I told her I didn’t want to be called that. She continued to call me Brookley, it stuck, and now I like it — just like my friend Yael (whom I affectionately call “Yarl”) calls me Broccoli.

The first time I gave my sister a nickname, she hated it. Now, she likes it — but only when I say it.

I’ve nicknamed many friends and family members. Often, I’ll nickname people online after only a few times talking to them.

One time, while on Quora, a girl named Samantha commented something on my answer.

I wanted to thank her and use her name, but I paused for a moment. Out of sheer laziness, I wanted to type “Sammy” or “Sam.” However, it felt weird to nickname someone I’d never even talked to, especially with a name usually reserved for boys. “I’ve wasted enough time just thinking about this to be cheap on an extra fraction of a second,” I decided, and I typed in “Samantha.”

She wrote back that she was feeling really emotional and grateful towards me. “No one’s ever called me by the name I chose,” she wrote, “and not only has this happened for the first time, but Brooke Schwartz has done it!” (That’s back when I was “famous” and all on Quora.) Apparently she really liked my writing and admired me, which is extremely flattering, but it also scared me in a way.

I came that close to referring to this girl by her potential deadname. (To those who don’t know, a “deadname” is the old name of someone shedding an old gender identity. Samantha was trans. Nobody had ever called her “Samantha” before me.)

So, guys…well, be careful when it comes to nicknames. I came very close to learning that the hard way. Instead, I learned it the scary-but-grateful way.