Ageism

Announcement: I, regardless of appearance, am truly 22 years of age. Yes, I have a four-year degree. Yes, I am a licensed nurse. Yes, I am qualified to take care of your loved one. Yes, I am sure I am not 15.
Most people say I'll be thankful I'm considered younger than I am when I get older. Well, to be perfectly honest, when families and patients look at me like I’m an unqualified Doogie Houser, I wish I had a couple of wrinkles on my face and a few gray hairs. It's not that they don't respect me, they do finally understand that I've been fully trained and equipped to be a professional nurse, and I eventually win them over with my excellent technique and skills, but that initial first impression is a tough hurdle to jump every time I enter a patient’s room. (Unless you're the pleasantly confused gentleman who is in love with me and thinks we should elope. I can deal with that sort of discrimination.) I suppose this is just a soapbox of mine and should stop being so sensitive, but it really does get trying sometimes. And there...I'm over it. I'm so mature for my age...