I take umbrage with the slanderous use of my name.  It's not that I am overly attached to the name Nancy, but the reference my name is associated with is far from who I am.  Culturally we use the phrase "don't be a Nancy" as something NOT associated with strength.  Admittedly, it does have a great ring to it!  Don't be a Susan just doesn't sound as good.  How, when, where or why the negative connotation became originally connected to my birth name, I do not know.  The reference infers a mocking term for a man engaging in feminine activities or otherwise compromising his masculinityNow most of you don't have a personal relationship with me.  You get glimpses of who I am based on what and how I approach a subject through writing.  That paints an image of me inside your head.  If you combine that with my picture on the ABOUT ME portion of this site, you might get a clearer image.  To be blunt, I am probably more masculine than the men being referenced in the don't be a Nancy phrase!  Though I'm not Kitty from the TV series "Gunsmoke", I can most assuredly hold my own and speak boldly.  I don't shy away from the tough or difficult or things I don't know about.  But rather, charge ahead with both stupidity and confidence that anything can be done.  Emotionally I am very real, very present, very cognizant.  So, nothing about that definition of being a Nancy rings true to who I am.  I went to the Urban Dictionary, a favorite website past-time for me.  Several people close to me know of my great love of words.  I read the dictionary at times like others read a fiction book.  It fascinates and excites me.  In the vastness of the Urban Dictionary you can look up a name.  It will give you some cultural information regarding that name and then people post things about people with that name.  There were quite a few entries on Nancy.  This one I liked and most fit who I am...
A vibrant girl with a zest for living life to its fullest. Nancy has the smarts and the looks to make every man fall in love with her without any flirtation. Any guy would be lucky to date a Nancy. She is everything. Adventurous, outgoing, energetic, intelligent, funny, artsy, studious, free-spirited, lively, kind-hearted, generous, enthusiastic, friendly, and loving - all the while staying modest and humble. She becomes uncomfortable when receiving compliments and never boasts about her talents.

Nancy is just naturally attractive and doesn't use makeup to make herself look beautiful. Her style is fresh, comfortable, and gorgeous. Not an athlete - but athletic. Not a voluptuous babe - but sexy in her own way. Unafraid to venture out and try anything, she'll have you doing things you wouldn't have thought of doing before and you'll love every second of it. She gives meaning to life and life to the meaningless. You'll find yourself becoming more and more addicted to her presence. You'll ache every minute she's not with you and she'll pretty much occupy all the space in your head every second of every day. Nancy's smile is gold and her laughter is magic.

There is no one else quite like Nancy.
I'll never forget that Nancy.
She is a treasure.

If you look in the Hebrew my name means; full of grace.  I have always found that interesting because it has been a quest I have been on all my life.  I have desperately needed grace and have tried to give it away.  Grace is a subject matter that I find myself paddling through time and time again.  I also found mention to the phrase don't bet your Nancy in a poker game, but couldn't find corroborating evidence to support its usage.  And, since I am not a great poker player nor do I frequent the tables in Vegas, I had no first hand knowledge to its validity.  I hated my name growing up and longed to have a different one.  Lynn is my middle name and I tried making my family call me Lynn briefly as a child, but they refused.  I get called Nanny but only by my middle sister and her husband.  My oldest sister's husband calls me Nan.  My father, though he and my mom named me Nancy, always spells it Nance.  In high school I was referred to from time to time as Prancer Nancer.  Of course there is the occassional and unoriginal Nanner. And in most recent years, my former boss would reference me as Fancy Nancy, in direct oppositeness of who I am just to be funny.  Nancy always seemed like an older name than the age I actually was.  That is, until recently.  In my mid-forties I finally grew into the name Nancy.   

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