All my life people have nicknamed me, sans permission. I've mostly not had a problem with the names.
And it clusters. One person will name me, and that name will be mine among an entire group of people. And it's become a funny memory trigger thing, like hearing a #1 hit from your childhood or encountering a particular scent. For awhile there, I was Berta, to a particular group that was unusually insular. And then from time to time I get a message from Hayley or Serena, who are the teenage daughters of my oldest childhood friend, and the message will start, Hey Bert. I'm thinking, where'd that come from? until I remember who their mother is. It's a quirky part of my life.
But I do feel like the Berta thing — Berta was this character. And I'm not saying that I wasn't me, but I am saying that I was slugged into a specific role among this group (the anomaly, confidante, eternal sage and keeper of all that is wisdom and bagels — I was the hub. a lot of drama focused on or rotated around me). I entirely positioned myself that way. It was a joyful place to be, and a great way to cycle energy. I am not blaming, nor am I even suggesting it was bad. I'm just observing, now, with some time and distance. I haven't been called it in awhile, and I'm glad of that, because it doesn't match me here and now. I'm not rejecting the name either, I'm… well, I'm just saying.
