The other day, a salesman clearly assumed I am Christian and a Republican. Wrong on both counts. I don’t think I give off a Republican vibe, so that one was probably just based on this being a red state. The Christian one is probably the same, with a little “you seem respectable, therefore must be Christian” thrown in. Before I was married, people often seemed to assume I am a lesbian, based both on my shoes and of course my unmarried status at an older age. Since these are usually subtle assumptions (along the lines of offering to pray, saying “President Obama’s money” in a disparaging way), I seldom bother to correct people, but I often think about it afterward and wonder if I should. The Republican one is the one that bothers me most.
What incorrect assumptions do people make about you? How do you react? Do you know why they make the assumption they do, or is it baffling?
When I tell people that I have degrees in Physics and Engineering, the response is either, “You must be so smart!” or, “Wow, you must be really good at math!”
The truth is really different. I ended up in Physics because I like science and I didn’t know what I wanted to to, and Physics seemed like the most applicable to the most things. I got through it based largely on stubbornness, not smarts. Excepting two classes, I got straight Cs. It was my “you’ve got to major in something” major. Math is the same way. I’m actually not very good at math. I get the concepts well enough, but I have very weak arithmetic skills, which means that solving practical problems is just about as difficult for me as anyone else (For example, I had to deposit four different checks at the bank last week - I was counting on my fingers and carrying the two to make sure I added it all up right).
I’ll also throw in a misconception about my husband. He’s R/G colorblind, meaning he lacks about 90% of the rods (uh… could be I’m mixing things up and it’s cones) needed to pick up the red wavelengths. He has a terrible time telling apart blues and purples, or reds and greens. But, as soon as he mentions he’s colorblind, people think he’s fully colorblind, and sees in black and white, or that red things are invisible to him. He has to carefully explain to people how he can drive (Yes, he knows which one means stop and which one means go), and that his wife doesn’t pick out his clothes for him (although he does occasionally check with me on things).
Everyone assumes I’m in my teens or, at oldest, early 20s, when I’m actually 28. People are always surprised to find out I have a kid at all, then shocked to learn that she’s 10 years old and not a baby, then taken aback to find out that she’s half black.
From what I’ve gathered from everyone I’ve ever met in my life, I come off as a sweet, naive, conservative-ish teenager. It’s weird. Sometimes I wonder what it would be like to be taken seriously by strangers.
Some friends said they thought I was really competitive when I got a little snarky at game night because someone wasn’t playing the game right. I’m not actually super competitive - I don’t care who wins. However, I am a stickler for rules and I guess I turn into a big baby when people don’t play right. So I can see where they’re coming from with that assumption.
Like the OP, I live in the same red state and many times, because I’m white, semi-respectable and speak English as as a first language, I am assumed to be a Protestant Christian Republican. Wrong on all counts.
I’m sometimes mistaken for a lesbian. Maybe it’s because I’m a heavy, unmarried, not particularly girly middle aged woman.
Upon first meeting, many times, I’m mistaken as ten years younger than I am , especially by those who are not of the same race.
In my worklife, I’m often seen as one former co-worker put it, “school teacherish”. Even when I’m around some of the rough and tumble warehouse and production guys, no one uses vulgar language (and I know they do this among themselves), tells off color jokes or anything. They even call me Miss Firstname. It comes as a shock if I run into them outside of work and they see me in a bar or hop on the back of a motorcycle with a guy who looks like a refugee from ZZTopp.
Because I’m fairly quiet in real life, people often assume I’m shy. Nope, I just don’t talk a lot when I don’t have something to say. When I want to say something, I have no problem doing so. Also, I am fairly content most of the time - I’m not in a bad mood just because I don’t have a stupid grin pasted on my mug.
People often assume my sister is Latina and speak to her in Spanish. She doesn’t speak a word of Spanish. Ironically, I speak fluent Spanish and no one ever does that to me.
People often assume that I am not a genius because I am so good-looking.
People used to always assume I was Italian, even if they knew my real name. It was probably because there are a lot of people of Italian descent in Schenectady. It went away as my hair went gray, though.
It’s probably because they noticed you were listening in on them and figured you could understand them. I bet they asked “Do you speak French?”
As for me, I am like Cat Whisperer. Quiet which doesn’t necessarily mean shy. I just don’t blather on about every little thing that comes to mind like my mom. I am thankful to be this way too.
Went to the Hospital 2 years ago, and a nurse was asking some questions, she then got to a particular question, she asked if I smoked, (I have white teeth, great health) and right before I had a chance to answer no, she had already clicked yes on the computer. Then she proceeded to ask me two more times while looking @ me and the computer screen. If it matters, I have 1 piercing in my lip. Also, people flat out don’t believe me when I say I don’t smoke pot, they’re like, you can trust me. Huh, guess I give off the smoker stoner alcoholic feeling. (I don’t drink either)
Naw, I believe I was in ignorant denial a few years ago in which I thought that cigarettes/alcohol/pot weren’t as widespread. Now when I really start thinking about it, everyone I know smokes!
People assume that I’m a Christian. They’re very confused when I tell them that I’m a Jew. I’m routinely amazed by how many people are unaware that yes, black people can be Jews. I guess twenty years after he died, people don’t remember Sammy Davis, Jr.
Because I’m a religious woman, dressed conservatively, people are shocked when they see me have a drink. They also apologize when they curse around me because they assume that I must be terribly offended.
My husband is Italian. People always assume he’s Jewish.
I don’t know what people think I am. I often worry that they are making judgments about me based on superficial facts like where I went to school or some of the wonderful opportunities I’ve had. I’ve had coworkers make comments like, ‘‘I wish I could afford to go back to school’’ as if I bought my way in or something, as if I didn’t start with nothing and bust my ass to get where I am today.
And because I believe in social justice, and compassion, and all that stuff, people think I’m some kind of sheltered optimist. This is probably reinforced by the fact that a part of me is really child-like and silly.
The truth is I am cynical as hell, think life is arbitrary and meaningless and am quite conscious that this is how I have coped with my own arbitrary and meaningless suffering–by making something out of it. I have a dark sense of humor, wouldn’t make sense of half the shit that happened to me if I didn’t write it down, and am so hyper-conscious of myself that I drive myself insane.
Truth is, I’m pretty dark. And angry. And it’s my anger that fuels the fight, not some sunshiny delusion of a perfect world.
