Last night the hubs and I met with the Bishop in our new ward where he extended us our new callings. Yay. Primary. Again. I have a feeling they’re trying to keep my feminist liberal self out of Relief Society and Sunday School where I won’t negatively affect the other members by encouraging them to actually think for themselves.
But I digress.
I came straight from work and was the first person there. Next came the Bishop, whom I had to open the door for. He thanked me, but kind of dismissed me. Not the usual way you would greet a person you were expecting to see. So I sat back down in my chair and waited for the hubs. I heard the Bishop tell the Ward Clerk that he was waiting for ‘The Stringhams” and I said, “I’m here.” He gave me a weird look. Then the hubs came coming around the corner and he said “there is one of the Stringhams.” Again I said, “and I’m here too.” It suddenly dawned on the Bishop that I was one of the people he was waiting for. I could tell he felt a little foolish.
Somewhere during the meeting with our Bishop he admitted that he thought I was one of the Young Women waiting for an interview with the Bishop in the other ward. “Young Women” in the LDS church meaning teenage girls between the ages of 12 and 17. I was shocked. I knew I looked young, but not THAT young. He then said something about the hubs robbing the cradle. It was then that I admitted that the hubs is only 2 years older than me and I am a woman in my 30s. It was his turn to be shocked.
I have noticed that looking around at women my age lately that I do look a lot younger than them. One of my friends from high school even commented on a profile picture I posted of myself on Facebook asking me if I was sure I graduated with him in ’96. I get told I look a lot younger than I am a lot. But, c’mon! A teenager!
I guess I’m supposed to take this as a compliment. I mean, my beautiful mother looked like she was 45 when she was 60. However, I have noticed that as a professional I am not taken as seriously. I don’t know what I can do to make myself look older, short of shortening my life by tanning or smoking. I refuse to do either. So either I embrace my youthful appearance, even though I’m condescended to on a regular basis on a professional level, or I try to do things to make myself look my age. Frankly, I don’t feel like changing anything. It’s too tiring.