Once upon a time, I hated to be called Michael. This wasn’t something born out of childhood and always being called Mike so just being used to it, there was way more to it than that, but I’ll explain why momentarily. Lately, though, I’m finding that I actually prefer to be called Michael, especially by the people I’ve been meeting lately in Richmond. It is honestly the work of one woman, which is funny, because it was the work of another woman who made me start to loathe my actual first name.
Suboptimal Musings 