What's In a Name,

I'm not talking about roses or anything sweet. 

It has taken a damn long time for people to accept that my name is Charlie and not Charlotte, and I still encounter issues with it. My old landlord had this exceedingly rude habit of calling me Charlotte, not Charlie, but didn't have a problem with calling Christopher, Chris. It made him more comfortable.

Since when is my name about other people's comfort? 

Okay, I get it. People I'm romantically involved with don't always like calling me Charlie because it's traditionally a male name. I, sometimes, give them a bit of room with that because the likelihood is that they're going to get somewhere in the region of 19 pet names and I will expect them to respond to every one, but for anyone else, I'm sorry, but that's my name. 

People wonder why I make so much of a fuss about it. It's not like I'm transgender or have some sort of heinous name that doesn't bear uttering, and I know that. There are occasions where I have to be called Charlotte - it happened when I graduated, it happens at job interviews, it'll probably happen on my wedding day - but there is something different about it. I'm "Charlotte" in formal situations and mostly that's because I don't have a choice. It's not a name I really identify with a lot, and it's not something I often answer to anymore. Being Charlie is as much a part of my identity as a different name is for anyone and it's neither fair, nor right, nor anyone else's place to try and tell you what your identity is...

So, why am I bringing this up? 

Recently I signed up with Macmillan to run the London Landmarks Half Marathon in March of next year. I'm looking forward to it, but there was one thing that did upset me and it hasn't been the training. When I ordered my running shirt I was told that I could only put 6 letters on it. Charlie is 7. Charlotte, well, thankfully that also don't fit, but I spent a long time pondering over all sorts of options (Chuck, Chucky, Lucky, Peanut would even have worked...) but finally decided that I would go with my childhood nickname of Lotti, but I was far from settled with it. In fact, I was dreadfully upset. It's ridiculous really but I resolved, after much upset, to take it to a t-shirt printers and get Charlie put onto it myself in whatever lettering would fit. And then the thing arrived...

When I opened the parcel last night, a C-H-A-R-L-O and 2 Ts dropped out. Clearly, provided there is space for your race number, they don't mind how many letters you put on it, so I was straight on the phone requesting an I and an E wondering why this had to be such a drama from the start. 

In other words, panic over, crisis averted, but my God, did they have to wind me up in the first place?