Growing up I had a lot of nicknames. Most of which I didn’t mind, but there were others I didn’t like at all – even “hated” isn’t too strong a word to describe how I felt about them.
Most of the ones my parents called me were cute, or had a special meaning behind them. Some of them were just habits. The name my brother called me, however, was a point of contention between him and I. He knew it bothered me a lot and even hurt my self esteem a little, yet he called me it anyways. And he didn’t just call me it when we were by ourselves – oh no; he usually only used the nickname in front of all his friends, which made it SO much worse.
Before I tell you the nickname though, there’s something you should know first. When I was a little girl I had the hairiest arms this side of the Nile. It was ridiculous. I always hated it, and I always tried my best to cover my arms – rain or shine, summer or winter. I used to walk around in a bulky, hooded sweatshirt on 90-degree days in the dead of summer. My hairy arms were my greatest nightmare.
So what was the nickname, you ask? It was “Hairy Heather.” Do you even understand how traumatizing that is for a GIRL? No? Well, it is – very much so. I’m pleased to announce that my arms have shed the majority of their hair, and they no longer bother me. :]
My dad’s nickname for me growing up was Tootsie Wootsie – I promise there was no legit reason behind this one. Really. He’s shortened it since then, and now just calls me either “Tootsie” or “Toots.” (Okay, I feel a strong need to explain how this is pronounced – it’s not pronounced how it looks. The double O’s in both words have the same sound as the U does in “push.” FYI.)
My mom had a couple nicknames for me too – there was Joybells, Gweegle Toot (again, no reason behind it I promise), and Punky Brewster, and then Shmoots, and then there’s Giggs – which is what she still calls me to this day.
Nicknames are a funny thing – usually they have absolutely nothing to do with your real name, but usually are some sort of term of endearment (depending on who gave you the name). And usually the name has something to do with something that reminds the nickname-giver of you or maybe even a personality trait you have. More times than not they’re probably adjectives or even nouns.
In highschool my nickname was Sunshine because of my bubbly, happy personality. When I went to Bible College, my nickname was HethieBaby (which explains my twitter ID. *sigh*) – because my friends thought I was sexy or some other dumb reason. Most of my friends still call me sunshine though, the HethieBaby one has pretty much bit the dust. Ha.
I love when my mom calls me Giggs or when my dad calls me Tootsie because those are names that are precious to me. When my friends call me Sunshine, I’m thankful that I could be that happy person in their life during a time when more drama hits the fan than you can shake a stick at. I’m thankful that I am identified by names that are special to my friends and family.
I’m also thankful that my Heavenly Father has nicknames for me. Names such as…
He looks down from Heaven, sees me, and calls me His own.
“Fear not: for I have redeemed thee, I have called thee by thy name; thou art mine.” ~ Isaiah 43:1b
And there are a couple nicknames I hope that I will achieve one day. I hope and pray that the Lord will be able to look at me and say that I was a Friend of His. And I hope one day when I reach the other side of Glory that He will call me the greatest name a Child of God could ever be called: “good and faithful servant.”
Did you have any nicknames growing up?
What are some of the nicknames people have for you now?
What are some other “nicknames” that God has for His children?
**Okay now… I went out on a BIG limb and really opened up with some doozy information sharing all those embarassing nicknames. Don’t hold out on me now…!** ;]