On nicknames.

For some reason, no one ever shortened my name to Chris. Probaby because I always introduced myself as Christine.
I don't mind my lack of nickname at all. I hate being called Chris. It gets my hackles up. Ditto when anyone who is less then a friend calls me babe. Love is borderline. Sometimes I feel irked. Sometimes I don't. It depends if you should know my name or not- shop keepers, of a certain generation, as I leave their store can get away with calling me love. Doctors and nurses, when they have access to my name on their computer screen, written on my wrist or written on my bed, do not.
I am not your love, your babe, and Chris is not my name, although I will respond being I'm a grown woman and ignoring you is childish. For some reason a lot of people call me Carolyn, and I don't mind that. They don't remember my name, but they are trying. By calling me Chris when I mention I'm actually Christine- either directly, or the fact I sign all paperwork with my preferred name- you're actually ignoring a pretty major part of my identity. You are, to put it simply, being a dick.

I wonder if Willow will end up with a nickname. I wonder if she will own it, or hate it, or one day, legally change her name. Some people when they hear her name go "oh no, but people will call her Willy!" Some boys in primary school called me piss-tine for a bit, and a friend got fanny-elle, Jeremy was Germy while Edward got Backwards because kids are hilariously witty jerks, yo. You can't stop them. Even if you call them something safe like Anne, some smartarse will call them bubble butt, or big tits, or no tits, or fatso, or they'll make endless fun of the fact that Anne is a midget. At the very least by setting Willow up for a bad nickname, I'm making sure she isn't giving other kids bad nicknames, right? Better the bullied, then the bully.

 At least one gives her a better chance of developing empathy.