People assume that I’m far younger than I am. I’ve even been accused of lying about my age.
I guess it’s a fortunate gene in my family. My sister was feeling a little bummed tht she just turned 30. Er, 50. Looks like 30, though.
That I’m happy.
Most people think that since I’ve lost a lot of weight I eat healthfully. I really don’t - I just eat less volume of unhealthy food than I used to. And most also assume that putting down the food once I’ve had a reasonable portion is easy. What a lot of people don’t know is that I’m hungry. All the time, no matter how much I’ve eaten, I’m hungry and I can always eat more. That’s how I got fat to begin with. It’s like I can’t turn it off, even if I want to. I only stop eating because I know what a reasonable portion looks like, not because I’m satisfied. And sometimes, putting that fork down is the hardest thing in the world. Being fat was easy. It just crept up on me without me having to think about it. Being un-fat is immensely more difficult.
Many people think I’m very reserved at work. Then I open my mouth and that misperception is promptly corrected.
Lots of people think my kids are adopted or that I’m their babysitter. They look nothing like me, my oldest especially.
That I’m Hispanic. I always take this as a compliment, because Hispanic women tend to be absolutely gorgeous.
I don’t get this much anymore now that I’m on the other side of 50, but I used to get it all the time: “You must play basketball!”.
I hate basketball – possibly because I heard this so much.
I’ve never had the courage to use the perfect comeback: “You must be a jockey!”
Maybe if you ate a bigger volume of healthy food you wouldn’t have this? It’s not a choice between starve but be thin and be satisfied and be fat.
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I have traveled to many cities in the world. Without fail, within 1 day of arriving in any city, someone will stop me on the street and ask directions. They always tell me I look like I know my way around. Somehow, I don’t “look around” like a tourist or recent arrival.
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Also, I’m a slender male, somewhat youthful looking for my age, polite and well groomed…OK, so I like show tunes too…but really, I’m not gay! (Not that there’s anything wrong with that…)
I get the opposite – because I’m clean-cut and like to make good first impressions, people are usually VERY surprised when they find out that:
- I used to do a lot of shit when I was younger, in art school. Ok, after I graduated, as well.
- I have a filthy mouth and a twisted sense of humor.
- I have a pretty bad temper (but it takes a lot to get me there … sometimes).
- I’m a smoker. I just never smoke during the daytime. I’ll have a couple of cigs in the evening, but that’s it, generally.
People seem to think that I’m a health nut because I’m a vegetarian. I’ve been quizzed (sometimes hostilely) about my eating habits when someone sees me eating chocolate or drinking a soda. Apparently I’m not living up to their standards or something.
That I’m Jewish. This might be the reason that I dated more than my share of Jewish girls when I was single. Plus, I tend to be attracted to Jewish girls.
That’s I’m really serious. At work I tend to just do my work, when everyone else spends a fair amount of the work day socializing, complaining about work, and avoiding work. I just prefer to keep my social life separate from my job- when I’m there, I’m there to work. Granted, I’ve toned down my wild side as I’ve gotten older, married, and had kids, but it’s still there, lurking, and comes out at the right times.
That I’m really smart- no, I’m not trying to be self-serving, because frankly I’m not much smarter than average, in my opinion. But as I’ve gone through my career, people have sought my opinion on things as determinative of whether ‘X’ is the right course of action. I think it’s because, as I mentioned above, I do my work at work. One guy told me he was convinced I must have been the valedictorian of my university (I was ranked firmly in the bottom 50% of the class).
I should have clarified - I eat healthfully about 75 percent of the time, so maybe one out of every four days I’ll junk out, only I’ll eat smaller volumes. Most people assume I eat healthy all the time since I lost so much weight.
When I do eat healthfully, I can eat larger amounts of food, yes, but I still have to watch my volume. It’s like my stomach doesn’t have a shut-off mechanism to tell me that I’m full. I could just eat all day at work and still be ready for dinner and dessert when I got home. For example, I just at some carrot sticks, fat-free yogurt and roasted garlic chicken and I’m still hungry. I shouldn’t be, but I am.
Oh, well. I’m about a size 10 now, down from almost an 18. Getting here was not easy, but it’s worth it, even if I have to watch what I eat forever, which I will probably have to do. The constant low-level hunger I feel is an irritant, but it’s significantly outweighed by having more energy, stamina, being able to keep up with my son without sucking air, being able to run again without pain and having lower cholesterol.
Maybe it would’ve been more accurate for me to say that most people assume that I eat until I’m not hungry anymore, even though that’s not the case. I eat until I shouldn’t be hungry anymore.
That I’m vegetarian. I can only assume it’s because I’m slender.
That I won’t pig out when given the opportunity. I don’t go on binges or anything, but neither do I eat like a bird. I’m going to order the big greasy cheeseburger on the menu just like everyone else, and then let out the biggest belch afterwards.
The most common one is that I’m biracial (of black and white parentage). People have also assumed that I have Asian ancestry, that I’m Hispanic, or that I have some kind of Middle Eastern/Semitic thing going on. There was this one Jewish guy who just assumed, without knowing anything about me, that I was the result of a black+ Ashekanazi union (as if this combination produces a recognizable “look”). I often wonder if there’s some disappointment when I break it to people that I’m just another run-of-the-mill negro.
I’ve been going to Quakers meetings (I don’t self-identify as one quite yet). When I tell people about this, they assume all sorts of crazy things. Like, that I dress like a pilgrim on Sundays. Or that Quakerism is the same thing as being Amish.
That I must have an IQ of a genuis because I have a Ph.D. I don’t know what my IQ is, but I assume it’s just slightly above average–not astronomical or particularly impressive. Also, there’s an assumption that I make a lot of money. Boy, do I wish!
That I’m some kind of mathematical savant just because I crunch numbers for a living. It would shock some people if they knew how long it takes me to do basic arithmetic in my head.
Female, early 40’s, single Mom, comfortable shoes, super short hair, drive a GMC (it’s an Envoy, but still) and fashion decisions based upon whether it a) doesn’t itch and b) can be laundered at home. Yeah, folks mostly assume I am lesbian.
And they’re half right. I have no interest in men at the moment, it’s just that I’ve never had any interest in women. There’s no time at all to worry about whether I am attractive to anybody.
The biggie is one that several other folks have already mentioned: most people think I’m about 10 years younger than I actually am. It’s not usually a problem, but can create some dating trickiness (since I prefer to date a little older).
I must give off some kind of girl-next-door vibe, because people are often shocked to discover that (a) I have tattoos, and (b) that when I say “I listen to all kinds of music” I really mean it (e.g., I’m a jazz vocalist and psyched about seeing Iron Maiden this summer).
People also seem to struggle with my “totally straight but totally comfortable with the gay community” thing. Even most gay people don’t understand why I would ever choose to go to a gay bar, and insist that I must be at least a little gay.
It only happened to me the one time, but I’ll never forget being in the office cafe at lunchtime a few months ago, ordering a grilled cheese and fries, and having a co-worker say, “Oh, are you vegetarian?” Because that one day I didn’t order any meat. :rolleyes:
I’m another person who’s been mistaken for Jewish on several occasions. I think it’s my name, which could easily be Jewish.
And it’s grilled cheese! That’s like, one of the gifts of a loving God. 
I’ve been told that I’m intimidating. Me?? Sweet, shy, kindly me?? :eek:
I suspect part comes from my credentials - I’m an aero engineer who graduated from Purdue - apparently that makes me intimidating or something. And while there are those who will dispute it, I am pretty quiet most of the time. In the right group and in the right mood, I can be boisterous and even bawdy, but mostly, I’m laid back and just nice, dammit!
I also had one coworker tell me I was a bigot! I was ragging on my mentee because he was complaining how cold it was in Florida - I claimed it was his thin Puerto Rican blood. Is that bigoted? He didn’t think so - he laughed…
Like others, because I’m of mixed ancestry, lots of folks think I’m a mix of whatever the predominant brown person is in the area. I guess I can’t blame them for playing the odds. Funnily, my husband is a stronger interracial mix than I am, but looks Caucasian enough that no one suspects his Philippino background.
Because I repair animals, I must be vegetarian.
Because I’m American, I must be completely clueless about all other cultures and the metric system.
Also, BrotherCadfael, I am totally going to steal your Jockey line at the next opportunity.
Because I wear a kerchief over my hair when I leave the house, I am often assumed to be either the extreme sort of fundie Xtian, or Jewish. Not generally Muslim, though, due to being dark-blonde. Actually I’m Pagan, and just like the look.
Apparently I’m exactly what people picture when they think of someone of 100% Irish extract: coppery red hair, blue eyes and extremely fair, lightly freckled, skin. Truth is I’m only a small fraction Irish.
And I too confound people who try to guess my age. 90% of people don’t come within 5 years of it, and nearly a third guess that I’m even younger than that by a few more years.