I clearly met a winner when I slept with a guy who didn’t know my name. At least he didn’t call me a totally different name, it was just a variation of my name. Either way, it was so embarrassing and degrading and it made me feel like crap.
- It was our first (and only) time sleeping together. I met this guy on a retreat and I flirted with him until we ended up in bed together. It only took a day or two. Though we did spend some time together outside of the bedroom, it clearly wasn’t enough time for him to learn my damn name.
- He was a lot younger than me. I don’t know if this had anything to do with it, but he was 19 and I was 25. I know, what the heck was I doing with such a young guy? Who knows. He was cute and I got attached to him during the course of the retreat. There’s a stereotype that younger guys are clueless and perhaps it played out to be right in this situation.
- He called me the wrong name. Oh my goodness. He called me “Gilette” when my name is Ginelle. What an idiot! If I were him and I wasn’t sure of the name, I’d just avoid saying it at all costs. Perhaps he felt confident (like an idiot) that he had the name right. Regardless, it still felt like crap to be called the wrong name.
- At least he didn’t call me a real girl’s name. I think I’d be more upset if he called me his ex or something. Instead, he called me a shaving razor brand or the stadium name for the Patriots. I definitely think it’s worse to call out a real person’s name than holler a mistaken mix of mine.
- I felt so insulted. It was a terrible feeling to be invalidated like that. It was like he just said to me “you don’t matter” or “I don’t care about you at all.” It also made me feel like a big ole piece of meat, like I was nothing more than that. I couldn’t fathom how he didn’t know my damn name.
- I made a scene. When he said the wrong name, I said, “Are you effing kidding me?” (with the actual expletive, of course). I was visibly angry and I grabbed all of my stuff and took off. I had a comforter wrapped around me that I just decided to take with me too. Mind you, I was at a retreat center so I couldn’t really go anywhere, though I let him know that I was very unhappy with him.
- Then I forgave him. I sat down in another room and took a deep breath. I was so upset but I also kind of still wanted to be around him. This was probably toxic behavior, but I turned around and I went back upstairs. I think I laughed a little bit and told him he was an idiot. I ended up forgiving him for the mishap and we continued to spend the night together.
- I guess I thought maybe something would come from the hookup. I foolishly got my own hopes up about building a genuine connection. I thought we might be able to date even though we didn’t live in the same state. I think that’s why I was so upset, because I had all of these expectations built up in my head that were just shattered when he muttered the wrong name.
- That never happened to me before and hasn’t since. This isn’t something that happens to me often. It’s actually never happened before this and now it hasn’t happened since. I think it’s probably a rare occasion. That being said, one time I was guilty of calling someone the wrong name in bed. I called him my friend’s name instead of my boyfriend’s. I got in big trouble for that. Perhaps this is karma!
- In hindsight, it’s kind of funny. My ears were burning I was so mad when it happened, but now I can laugh. Even then I did laugh a little bit at the time, now I think it’s super funny. Who cares? It doesn’t say anything about me as a person, which was a worry I had, that I was unlovable or something. That’s ridiculous. He just didn’t catch my name or remember it and it has nothing to do with me.
