Sigh, it's fine. I've learned to live with it.
But when you are going to be speaking at a thing, they always want a bio and a pic. Presumably in case you forget who you are; this way, someone can ID you as you wander around the conference in confusion.
The whole thing is just awkward. "Rev. Patti Miller is ... with experience in ... And frankly, she's just writing this so you will like her. But she doesn't want to overstate, thus deeply disappointing you and causing you all to discuss over the conference lunch how ridiculously misleading her bio was. Yes, she believes that could happen."
Fortunately, I had a bio on file, tweaked it a bit, shuddered, and sent it off with a lovely pic, one of those lucky, random shots, probably right after a hair appointment.
They were happy, except ... the pic was too small to be reasonably used. Could I possibly send another, from my apparent portfolio of photos? "Sure, of course I can, no sweat, silly me, let me just grab another for you...."
Sigh. Took half an hour longer than usual to do hair and makeup. Pulled out my phone, using the blind side of the camera, since that is better quality. And proceeded to take 7,832 photos of myself.
At home ... at the office ... outside in the shade ... outside in the sun ... one angle ... another angle ... ugh. All various versions of awful. If you could make them into a flip book - remember those? - you would see the hope turn to frustration turn to rage turn to despair.
Finally, with traffic going by, all shaking their heads at the self-involved pastor taking a selfie on the church steps (I believe this to be true), I managed to randomly snap one, pretty darn good photo.
Emailed it. Saved it for future use. And then took this one, just to return joy to my day.
This has been a moment of honesty in the life of a running pastor.