Labels.

Sissy, Blondy, Shorty, Mighty Mouse, Trouble, Munchkin, Panda, Bulldog, Crazy, Tante Panda, Witch, Bitch, Chihuahua.......

We are a culture of labels. We like everything to have a name so we can know what to expect from it. I could keep going for days on the list above, the list of labels I've been given at one time or another. Some of them were from friends or loved ones, others from sworn enemies, but they all describe one of two things; my appearance or my personality, with one exception.

Sissy was my first label, given to me by my little brother despite out mother's objections. It's the only label that makes me feel connected to another person. Above all else, I am his Big Sissy.

Some of the labels came from my childhood; pet names that were fun (and true) and were meant to be affectionate.

Other labels came about as I entered adulthood. Those labels run the gauntlet from loving and not particularly original to hateful...and still not particularly original.

On occasion a name will stick out of function, young children sometimes have a hard time with my name, so something simpler needed to be chosen; or humor, as a poking-fun warning to others that I am not often intimidated. But in six weeks and a couple days' time I will be getting a new label, one that will stand out among the others. Wife.