It's Late and I'm Punchy...

...so you get a post.

I belong to a super exclusive club. It's the kind of club that is so hard to get into, few even attempt it. The kind of club that takes months and months (18 of them) of disciplined training and blood and sweat and tears to enter. The kind of club that completely reinvents your soul before they let you enter. But it is also the kind of club where, once you're in, you're in for life, Sopranos style. And once you're in, every other member of that club will always have your back.

Though this may sound like Hell's Angels, this is actually the club of returned sister missionaries.

Now I know all about the assumptions people have about sister missionaries.

Assumptions:
1. We are all extremely conservative (religiously, politically, grammatically, etc.)
2. We do not have a sense of humor. At all. No laughing. Ever. (Though smiling is critical - it's all a part of the 'sweet sister' thing.)
3. We're a few Marlboros short of a pack, if you know what I mean. (Am I allowed to use that analogy when talking about missionaries?)
4. We're probably ugly.
5. We like rules, and we follow rules religiously. (Ha.)
6. We generally have an unusual helping of self-righteousness. (By the way, did you read your scriptures this morning for at least 800 hours like I did? No? REPENT!)
7. We really need a date. BADLY.

The list goes on, but you get the idea. Don't deny it, you know people who have these kinds of assumptions. I can't tell you how many conversations I've had with people who, when it comes out that I served a mission, start twisting uncomfortably in their seats and avert their eyes, as if they're just not sure what to do with me anymore and are silently planning their escape, lest I try and commit them to read the Standard Works by Friday. (Okay, I'm probably just inventing that last part in my paranoid head, but I am definitely not inventing the awkward silence.)

It's gotten to the point where I sort of gloss over that particular part of my personal history and quickly move on to something else when meeting new people. It goes something like:

Person X: "So how come you speak Italian?"
Mel: "IservedamissioninItalydoyouwantsomemorecakeorhowaboutsomeicecreamwehaverockyroad?"

This is not because I am ashamed of being a sister missionary. I'm not. I just don't want the potential friend to write me off because they think I am too righteous/unfunny/dumb/pious/conservative/will-call-them-to-repentance-at-any-moment-ish.

SO. I have decided to debunk these false assumptions ONCE AND FOR ALL. Prepare your minds for explosion.

THE DEBUNK:
1. We are all extremely conservative.

Mormons in general are often conservative. However, just as there are a good chunk of LDS folks who are not conservative, there are also a good chunk of sister missionaries who are not conservative. Don't assume that just because a woman served a mission she won't drink Mountain Dew. Or is pro-life. Or whatever. Sometimes it will be true. Sometimes it won't. But assuming all sister missionaries will vote for Mitt Romney, for example, is a mistake.

2. We do not have a sense of humor.

FALSE. Some of my favorite funny friends I found in my mission companions. The kind of people who make my stomach hurt from laughing with their sharp and wicked observations, and who I still adore for their incredible senses of humor, among other things of course. So this assumption just isn't true.

3. We're not very smart.

FALSE AGAIN. This argument (and the next) usually stems from people thinking that women only serve missions because we have "no other options." As if missionary service was somehow less enticing, less self-building, and less educational than anything else the world has to offer. I do not know a single returned sister missionary who is not smarter because they served a mission. (And, they were all pretty dang smart to begin with, so there.)

4. We're probably ugly.

After announcing that I planned on serving a mission, one well-intentioned woman exclaimed, "But you're too pretty to serve a mission!" I've never been so insulted. Serving a mission has nothing to do with your looks. To imply that God only has use for homely girls in His missionary work is to limit God's value for women and our potential for good. Not every girl will serve a mission. In fact most don't. That's okay. There are a lot of great things young women can choose to do besides serving a mission. But it doesn't mean that missions are the lesser choice between serving and not serving. It is not only an option for those "without prospects." (Oh I hate that phrase.) It is a mighty and holy calling given by God. If you want to argue with God about who he chooses to fulfill His work, take it up with Him. But I'm willing to bet that He cares a LOT less about my acne than he does about my willingness to to what He wants me to do. Grumble grumble.
5. We like rules, and we follow rules religiously.

Sometimes. Sometimes not. Personally, I hate everything that feels confining. But again, this will vary, just like it does with other human beings. (What? Sister missionaries are human beings too, you say? GASP!)

6. We generally have an unusual helping of self-righteousness.

Well, I am amazingly awesometastic. It's not my fault you're not as awesome as I am. Just kidding. (Really.) This is false too. If you get this impression from someone, I'm guessing it's coming from other problems besides the mission. (And [hint] this particular character trait probably made all their mission companions want to strangle them too.)

7. We really need a date. BAD.

Please, please, please, please, whatever else you do, PLEASE do not set us up with your neighbor/friend/brother/cousin/roommate/professor/dog washer/etc. Being married I have now escaped this trap. But I didn't like it when I had it, and I don't know anyone else who likes it either. Just because a woman is 20-something and single, her romantic future will actually survive if you just leave it alone. (That cracking sound you hear is your brain exploding.)

So here's the take-away: To stereotype is to be ignorant.

One last nugget that doesn't really have anything to do with the aforementioned seven points: When referring to a group of missionaries that includes both sexes, please do not ever use the phrase "Missionaries and Sisters." It is extremely insulting. Just don't do it.

Here's the thing. Missionary service is incredibly demanding. It's grueling. It's draining. It's thankless. It's rejection. It's challenging. It's tedious. It's lonely. It's relentless. It's getting hit on by drunk men at bus stops. It's waking up before you're ready every single day. It's getting weird looks at the grocery store. It's getting lost in dangerous parts of town. It's being chased by wild dogs. It's a lot of hard things. (No wonder so many returned missionaries suffer from PTSD.) But it's also liberating, defining, insightful, growth, patience, dedication, confidence, charity, and a lot of other good things. A mission is just a lot of things and is kind of a big deal. So can you see why returned sister missionaries get bugged when this mammoth experience gets boiled down to: "Well, you just didn't have anything else to do, did you honey"?

Let's change the perception. Sister missionaries are cool. Next time you meet one, don't assume her spirit is too sweet for you. Give her a shot. You might like her. And if she's anything like the sisters I served with, you are in for a treat.

I am sister missionary. Hear me roar.