Confession Time

The first counselor in our Bishopric came to visit on Saturday and extended a calling to me as the second counselor in our ward Young Women Presidency. I confess, my stomach hit the floor and I felt like puking. Callings usually aren't that scary, but this one, well, this one does more than scare me. 
Confession: I hated going to Young Women's when I was a young girl. Ages 12-18 are awkward anyway, but Young Women's was a whole different ball of wax. Don't get me wrong ~ I loved attending church and hearing testimonies of others my age. But that was about the extent of it. 
I didn't enjoy the activities every week, got tired of the gossip and girl talk, and looked forward to Relief Society from the time I was about 14. Why was it so awful? Ummmmmm. 
Confession: The one and only year I went to girl's camp I was puked on in the middle of the night. We'd had chicken and biscuits (which I still can't eat) the night before and the girl on the bunk above me got sick. My hair was totally matted down in vomit, my pillow and sleeping bag were covered, and some of it even got into my bag of "treats." Bad, right? It gets worse. The only showers we had were cold showers ~ EXCEPT for the showers in the leaders cabin. They were warm. The leaders said I needed to shower in the girl's showers. Well, I refused to wash puke out of my hair in cold water. Had I needed a quick "spit bath" the cold water would have sufficed. No way was I washing a full head of thick and uber long hair in freezing cold mountain water. So, I left it in all day. The smell got so bad the leaders finally offered up their showers to wash my hair so the camp didn't have to smell me anymore. The worst part was having other girls tease me about being a "whimp" for not washing my hair in the freezing cold water (and by freezing, I really mean freezing ~ I still get chills just thinking about how cold that water was). I was also referred to as "The girl that got puked on", so that was especially fun. (We had just moved about six months prior to girl's camp, so I didn't know anyone except the girls in my ward.)  Call me ridiculous, but that was a terrible experience. I never went back to girl's camp. And I still don't look forward to it now, even as a leader. Dirt and I are NOT friends. 
To add to that, I worked really hard to receive my Young Womanhood medallion. For my last project, I did something based on the value of knowledge. It had something to do with music, but was a stretch from my normal play the piano or violin. I had my interview with the bishop (a new bishop, by the way) and he said everything looked great. My mom signed off on everything saying I did what I said I did to complete the project and the bishop said to get the Young Women President's signature and the medallion was mine. I met with the president. She refused to sign my book saying that my final project was "too easy." I spent over the minimum number of hours on it and did all that was required, but because it had something to do with music and I was "musically inclined" she determined that the project wasn't difficult enough for me. She didn't take into consideration the fact that I was the ONLY young woman in our Laurel class who attended school AND worked a more than part-time job at my dad's dry cleaning business. Whatever. I came home, threw the Personal Progress book in the garbage can and never looked back. The following week at church I went into Relief Society with my mom. That was the end of attending Young Women for me! 
Stupid? Maybe. Childish? Maybe. Do I regret it? Absolutely not. I was so happy to be out of that program. It was a HUGE relief to be with adult women that didn't gossip and could care less who was dating who or whatever it was the young women talked about. But, here I am again! Mom said maybe I've been called now because some of the girls in Young Women feel much the same way I did. Maybe I'm there to help them learn from their experience and get something positive out of it. Or to help them see that things eventually get better and not to worry so much about right now. And maybe it's so I can finally "earn" that medallion and wear it proudly around my neck. Maybe. I don't know why the Lord calls us when and where He does. I just know we have to do our best, work hard, and take with us what we've learned from the experience.  The girls in our ward will end up teaching me more than I can ever teach them. And I know they are excited to have me spend time with them every Sunday and during the week. They've already told me so, and that makes me think maybe things won't be as bad as they were when I was a young Beehive.
Confession: I'm still extremely nervous about this calling. And every time I think about it I still feel like puking.