She got it slightly wrong on day one. Not wildly off, just... close enough. And in that first week, correcting her felt like more hassle than it was worth. It's a small thing, right? I'll fix it later.
I did not fix it later.
By around month six there was this invisible line I'd crossed where bringing it up would be weird. "Hey, quick thing — you've actually been saying my name wrong this whole time." After half a year that's not a correction, that's an ambush. So I let it ride.
Now it's two years. She says the wrong version in every meeting, cheerfully, and I turn my head and respond to it like it's the name on my birth certificate. I've basically grown a second name at work that only exists because I was too polite to speak up on a Tuesday in my first week.
Sometimes I wonder what happens if she ever finds out. Honestly I hope she never does. We're both too far in now.