We finally convinced Veronica to join us for happy hour after work and I sort of regret it. The whole office knows that she adheres to a Christian lifestyle, but we also know that she is a young woman and I guess we just figured she’d feel safe with just the women from the office and maybe open up. We’re a fun and loving group.

She is smart and friendly and I don’t think she understands the value in having those qualities. She strikes me as a little bit lonely and I’ve noticed the lengths she’s gone to to ensure that the lives of her colleagues are comfortable. She brings sunshine to our Mondays and I wanted to get to know her better.

When four o’clock rolled around, I sent out a group email to my girls. It said something along the lines of:

Hey babies! It’s ladies night at The Jackson, which means two-for-one cocktails and all the mini-burgers our hearts desire. Who’s in?

The usual crowd responded with resounding yesses and an assortment of eating and drinking GIFs, but Veronica sent this:

Hello, Hayley. Did you mean to send this to me? I don’t usually run with your crowd and I would understand if you made a mistake.

It just broke my heart. I went over to her desk and knocked on the cube’s partial wall. She looked up from her afternoon snack of avocado toast and she seriously looked like a deer caught in headlights.

“Hey, girl! I thought talking IRL would be easier than emailing, especially since I’m just a few desks away. OF COURSE I meant to send that to you! I think you’re great and would love to hang out with you,” I said.

Her eyes went all glassy and she said, “Oh, really? Well I will have to check with my husband to see if it’s okay and if he can pick up the baby from daycare.”

I nodded, “Sure, no worries. We won’t keep you all night. How does at least one drink sound?”

She looked relieved, “I suppose one drink is fine. I’ll just call Cole and ask him if it’s okay.”

That made me happy and a little worried for her that she felt she needed his permission, but it’s their marriage and none of my business. I said, “Cool, cool. Well we’re meeting in the lobby at 4:45 and heading over together. We’ll wait for you!”

So we met at the agreed upon time and headed across the street to the bar. We were lucky enough to be seated at one of their round dining tables and I think I may have overdone it with the cheeriness in an effort to make her feel more comfortable. It didn’t last long, though, because she seemed to relax with a couple of sips of wine. This girl is a serious lightweight, but I guess I would be too if I had a baby at home.

She got to talking and told us about how her Christian upbringing led to meeting and marrying Cole before they were even legal to drink. They were members of the same congregation and they grew up together. I suspect a big reason they got married so young is the forced celibacy of the Christian faith. They were married for three years before she came to work as the receptionist at our company and four years before she got pregnant and had their daughter. She is twenty-five years old and so, so young. She and I have made very different choices with our lives and our bodies and I think that’s okay. I’m not sure I can say the same for her.

The conversation at our table inevitably turned to Tinder dates and hook ups. We laughed at some of my…er…misadventures with some of the weirdos I’ve agreed to meet, but Veronica seemed nervous and uncomfortable, so I decided to change the subject.

“So, Veronica, I noticed you changed up your look lately. Was it just time for something different? You look great!” I said.

Ashley piped in, “Oh, yeah, I really like the wide-legged high-waisted pants you’ve been sporting. That’s not a look many can pull off. Very chic.”

Veronica used to wear a lot of leggings, but tastefully so. She paired them with high socks, boots, chunky sweaters, or dresses. I always admired how effortless she made it all look.

She blushed and sipped her wine. She said, “Thank you, but actually I made the conscious decision to stop wearing yoga pants or leggings in public after I had a conversation with my husband and with God.”

That was a new one. We all kind of stared at her, trying to process what she had just said.

Jackie spoke first: “I’m sorry, what?”

Veronica explained, “Well I have had this feeling that my wearing yoga pants entices men and causes them to have impure thoughts. I spoke to my husband and he admitted that it is hard for him to focus when he is in a room with a woman who is wearing them. If it could happen to him, then it could happen to any other man who doesn’t have his self-control. I don’t want to be a vessel of sin.”

That was completely unbelievable. Jessica even said so. She continued to say, “That’s really fucked up. I’m sorry, but it is. It is oppressive. Women should be allowed to ear whatever they want. Men need to learn to control themselves. That is not a woman’s problem.”

“Yeah,” Ashley added, “I can see where you’re coming from, but why compromise your comfort and style just because a man will be enticed? Honey, any outfit will entice a man. You could be wearing a haggard old muumuu and some dude would be all BREAK ME OFF A PIECE OF THAT!”

Veronica looked like she was going to cry. Instead, she said, “Look, I’m not telling anyone how to dress. It’s just that men are the weaker sex, they think we are, but it’s them—”

“Amen, sister,” I cut in.

“—and sometimes they need us to make these kinds of decisions for their benefit.”

“But don’t you feel like you’re censoring yourself for no reason?” Jackie asked.

“No. I have a daughter and I know it will be hard for her to grow up in this world. I want her to know that her mind and her personality and relationship with God come before her looks. I want her to value herself as a person, and I want to set a good example for her.”

I reached out my hand for hers and said, “I’m positive that you are a good role model. I just don’t think it should come at the risk of you losing yourself and your independence. Don’t you want her to grow up with a strong mother showing her she can be anything she wants, do anything she wants, say anything she wants, and WEAR anything she wants?”

She pulled her hand away and stood up. “I didn’t expect any of you to understand. I don’t want her to be free with her body. I want her to know that she is smart and responsible and owes her life to God. When she gets married, I want her to be wholly devoted to her husband AND God.”

She left and I felt sad for her. I feel even sadder for her daughter. Her intentions are pure and in the right place. When I have daughters, I will want them to value their minds over their bodies, but I will also want them to know that their bodies are their own. When I have sons, I will want them to treat women like people. She is just misguided, though. I don’t know if she will be joining us again, or if we are too liberal for her, but I hope she does. I think we can do her some good.