Every Sunday until I left for college, I attended 9 A.M. mass with my family. I would wake up early, around 7:40 A.M., so that I could pick out my outfit, do my hair, and as I got older, do my makeup. Sometimes I would give myself extra time if I needed to iron something. When I was 10, I started volunteering as an usher, where I would hand out pamphlets, greeting everyone that came through the church doors. I would pass the collection basket, and by the time I was 12, I helped supervise and witness the deposit of the donations. It was a job I prided myself in.

One morning, I overheard one of the other ushers, an elderly woman, mention to my dad that I was “precocious,” meaning that I had mature habits for my age. My dad smiled, but before he could thank her for the compliment, she added that I was too precocious “for such a young girl.”

Sure, I was young, but I was definitely “precocious” enough to know what that meant. And let me tell you, I was f*cking pissed.

This woman had the nerve to tell my dad that I was mature for my age, but considering that I was a girl, my maturity was inappropriate. I had a wonderful quality that is sought after, and bragged about by parents, but because I was a little girl my behavior was not suitable.

I’m calling you on your B.S., Barbara, the woman that -- setting aside our age gap -- put another woman (to-be) down. You may not have a Facebook or even a computer to read this on, but let it be known that I’m calling you out for what you said over 10 years ago, because I will never forget it.

This is about more than “feminism.” My actions may come off feminism in nature. I went to an all girls school and I will stand up for any woman being treated unfairly or shamed for reasons that are for the sole fact that she is a woman. What this is really about is being an individual.

My independent behavior at such a young age shouldn’t have stood out because I’m a girl, but because it’s rare to be so responsible or self-sufficient so young. It’s not a miracle of nature that I have a vagina, but I also know how to drive stick shift, change the oil in my car and basically hold my own, on my own.

Paying for dates and opening my own doors doesn’t make me a gung-ho feminist. It means I like to treat my boyfriend to a meal and God blessed me with arms, making me perfectly capable of opening a door.

Point blank, there are things that you should do because you are a human being, not because boy’s actions are dictated by some twisted, outdated code of chivalry, and expectations of girls are governed by long-standing ideas that we’re emotional and stupid.

So Barbara, if you ever do read this, first of all, I hope you’re doing well, but second of all, I’m going to leave you with this: Gender aside, there are basic life skills you should know because you’re an independent person.