In Defense of Pet Names
illustration by Zoe Gigis
Language can be the ultimate form of PDA. I, an adult human, have been called everything from “baby” to “bug” when in love. Terms of endearment like these make the mini-culture of your private life, public.
“It’s just a human way of expressing love,” says Helen Fisher, a biological anthropologist at Rutgers University. We mold our language to work for us, whether it be codeswitching, textspeak, or sweet talking. Such nicknames come to life naturally, creating a secret language between lovers.
Names hold power. “Pet” names hold power. In the poem, “Bone of my Bone and Flesh of my Flesh” by Ellen Bass, the queer writer wrestles with the secret language between herself and her wife.
“I can’t always refer to the woman I love,
my children’s other mother,
as my darling, my beloved,
sugar in my bowl.
...Don’t suggest spouse—a hideous word.
And partner is sterile as a boardroom.”
Bass wants to employ “the whole galaxy of endearments” for her love, but not every space is safe for such talk.
Gay marriage was still illegal in America in 2007 when the poem was written. Bass’s lamenting is a radical testament of her love. Nevermind the cuteness of “buttercup,” “lambkin,” or “mon petit chou,” she was standing up against oppressors with these honeyed words.
Queer relationships lived, and in many places still live, in silence. Shouting it from the rooftops is one thing, but to feel free enough to wield endearments in mundane, daily life is another.
Bass ends the poem on a sweet, sanguine note, too. She illustrates her want to extend precious names to everyday acquaintances.
“Maybe it would brighten her day, too.
Hello, I might say, you precious,
you jewel, O queen among queens,
darling, honey pie, angel,
my sweet patootie.”
Why not? Given with the right tone, “honey” has made my day on many occasions. Never “buddy,” though. There’s no right time for “buddy.”
With the rise of “yas queen,” some endearments have found their way into everyday life. I called the man who changed my oil a King. In the South, just about anyone will call you a “sweetheart.”
Although I am the biggest fan of such nicknames, we need any other term besides “pet name.” In the words of bedroom pop star Soccer Mommy, “I don't want to be your fucking dog.”
“Pet name” assumes that love must include possession. Ew, no! Although I reserve the term “light of my life” for one, that does not mean I own my significant other. Instead, I suggest we stick to “terms of endearment,” “words of limerence,” or “sweet stuff” (okay, I’ll workshop these).
As aforementioned, names hold power. There is a quote from Confucius in which he states, “The beginning of wisdom is to call things by their proper name.”
When I call my partner “Phat Ass,” it is not to showcase my ownership, but rather to communicate that we’re equals, together. Also he’s got a phat ass.
Furthermore, terms like “partner” avoid gender roles. In a post from More Color Media, “partner” also assists queer people by making the term more commonplace, just like putting your pronouns in your bio does. Plus, the term better illustrates what any romantic relationship should look like: a partnership. Yeehaw!
By altering what we call one another, we make space for all, not just a few. By bringing in words of love for daily use, each day can be just a little bit brighter.
Although I want to fill everyday with love, I can’t help but cringe at times. This, to me, is a very American reaction.
In America, we view romantic love as something to publicly pine after, but keep locked away once we’ve got it. Public displays of affection are seen as immoral, childish and cringy. Terms such as “simp” and “whipped” are ubiquitous on the internet and IRL.
An article from 1938 puts it plainly and timelessly, “America appears to be the only country in the world where love is a national problem....It is as if the experience of being in love could only be one of two things: a superhuman ecstasy, the way of reaching heaven on earth and in pairs; or a psychopathic condition to be treated by specialists.”
But I believe we’re treating it as both at the same time. I admit, when single, I will look at a couple in love and grimace, even though that is exactly what I am longing for.
It’s a push and pull. Wanting and hating what it is you want. Can you name anything more American?
Another thing so American, is showcasing endearment to complete strangers. Which is what we all need more of right now. So honey, pour some sugar into your bowl and share it with others. I’m sure you’ll love it, baby!