My first name is Stephen. As early as kindergarten, I can remember telling people to spell my name with a "ph," not a "v." So it has become part of my identity.
Why did my parents spell my name this way? It never even occurred to me to ask them. Maybe it had something to do with the vogue for British-sounding names. Maybe it was because my cousin's name was Steven, so we had to be kept distinct somehow. It doesn't matter now. It's my name.
It's not that it really bothers me when people call me "Steve." Please don't feel you have to apologize! Most of the time I don't even notice, to be honest. But my name is not "Steve," and I do prefer people to use my name. It isn't extra friendly or charmingly informal when you use a shortened version without asking first.
After all, "Stephen" sounds more refined, even a bit stuffy and stuck-up. Like me.
Names have particular connotations. I don't know why, but to me "Steve" sounds like someone who is blond. "Steve" plays tennis. "Steve" is happy-go-lucky. I am none of those things.
Okay, so it does bother me.
