Pet names don't take power from a truly liberated lady
Girl Talk
Clare Marie Celano

A man I was very close to was fond of calling me Tinkerbell, or Tink. He also told me I was solely responsible for global warming.

Here was a man who understood the power and value of balance in an intimate relationship with a woman. He also called me Princess or Angel, much to the chagrin of at least two of my dearest friends.

"It's too 'Father Knows Best,' " one said.

I actually enjoyed being called Princess, and I loved when he referred to me as Tinkerbell. I mean, what's wrong with being considered all gossamer and fairy-like by a man who cares deeply about you? Am I a throwback to the Dark Ages? Am I too feminine for today's world because maybe I like the idea of a man I love calling me those endearing names? They made me feel absolutely lovely. Have we climbed so far up the ladder in the name of feminism that we've forgotten how nice it feels to be considered soft and delicate by a man?

This man had an affinity for calling me various pet names. He was well aware of my given name, he just rarely used it unless he was being very serious. He would also refer to me as Cinderella or Sleeping Beauty, making me feel all ethereal and enchanted. He also told me I was magical. He managed to balance out the more tender names with a hefty dose of a number of romantic, sensual, "sweet nothings," which, of course, I shall keep to myself.

Once in a while, when he was in a whimsical mood, he'd even call me Daisy Mae, which to me indicated a woman who had a decent set of legs. Of course, he also told me he loved my intellect, my big heart, my easy smile and my passion. And on more than one occasion he said I had much more power than I ever realized. One might see this myriad of pet names as depicting a frilly, unliberated woman. But me? I saw them as the deep level of affection of a man who knew how to make me feel great. He covered all the bases.

Were those pet names reserved only for me? I have no idea. All I know is, those endearing terms, and the images they conjured up in my mind, allowed me to feel as though I were those images. And it felt very, very good.

Do women today see these endearing sweet nothings as connotations that would throw us back to the kitchen and out of the boardroom? I thought we went through all that garbage in the '70s.

We needed the padded shoulders then. The pendulum had to swing that far off center to bring us to some balance. Now, after 30 years or so, it's time to tilt that pendulum back a bit in order to remember who we are.

We need to be in the boardroom all right, but as author and lecturer Marianne Williamson says, "We need to be in the boardroom, but as women, not as men in drag."

Our femininity is not our weakness, girls, it's our edge. Some women seem to be put off by terms that depict them as sexy or delicate. Maybe they see these terms as categorizing women as weak or lacking in knowledge. Am I wrong in thinking that being referred to as womanly or feminine is a good thing? And when did it become so unfashionable to be considered the object of a man's desire - or of his tender affection? It's a balancing act we do, this back-and-forth of our roles from angelic to devilish, from delicate to brash, from demure to seductive, that makes us women in the first place. I enjoy having the ability to indulge in those roles whenever I feel like it. Women who already know they're intelligent and savvy don't need a man to tell them they are. And if we don't consider ourselves intelligent and savvy, how can we blame men for not recognizing it in us then?

Sometimes, I think pet names give us the lead-in about how our guy is feeling about us. How we respond to their references is in fact the way we are feeling about ourselves.

Endearing names, when uttered by a man who is sincere in his expression of that affection, do not define us but rather enhance us. When we are confident about our own femininity, we learn to incorporate our masculine side softly into the mix of who we are at our core.

When he addressed me by those wonderful sweet nothings, I felt he was recognizing and acknowledging all the different facets of me, of my feminine nature, fusing them all together, thereby accepting all those parts of me as well.

Being called sweet nothings today is very different from what it was years ago. No longer are we stuck in the mold our mothers were in. The difference between early feminism and today's is this: we now have a choice in how we want to respond. We also choose to respond with whatever facet of our nature suits our fancy at the moment.

And that, girls, is the essence of absolute feminine power.

Clare Marie Celano is a staff writer for Greater Media Newspapers. She can be reached at ccelano@gmnews.com.