June 15, 2006
One year ago I had a very bad day (you won't find it in my archives as I have deleted it). In fact I had a no-good, rotten very bad day, the kind of which you realize that getting out of bed was a simple waste of calories. It was a major day and it should have been a triumph. What instead transpired was something straight out of a Greek tragedy (only none of my family members were blinding or marrying each other, so really, maybe I shouldn't complain.)
All because I x'ed when I should have y'ed.
One year ago I was degraded and humiliated. I went to work in a smart, clean tailored dress and business jacket, heels and make-up that could be paired with the word "effort", and I left a bitter ball. I threw the dress away and haven't worn heels to work since. I was in fact so stressed and upset that I rid my closet of any clothes that could be even remotely construed as provocative.
I hadn't been back to that place since, that place of feeling like I could show off any part of me. While it's not wise to do so in the workplace and I completely accept that, as an engineer, wet T-shirts and Daisy Dukes are not in my appropriate work ensemble (and they have never been part of my home ensemble either, actually), my new "I'm Amish, Why Aren't You?" philosophy has also extended to my personal life, and short dresses and any hints of skin went by the wayside. I was made to feel ashamed of myself because of how I looked. I didn't want personal reminders of it. I remembered the burning shock of being reduced to "just a woman" all too clearly.
So there we were in Santorini. Santorini was the second half of the holiday, the first half being in the warm and kind island of Crete. I had begun to chill out, and I needed it-recently work has hit new lows. I have a tic in my left eyelid again that throbs obviously when I get stressed. Tic tic tic tic tic I have 2500 emails. Tic tic tic tic tic I have to deal with that guy again. I managed to put it behind me in Crete, the work blended away and the eye resumed its normal ocular duties, only I woke up once in a panic and there it was-tic tic tic tic tic.
I had been having a nightmare about work. The tic even follows me when I sleep. My nice Dr. Henry tells me the tic is stress induced, and I think he's right.
It isn't too far-fetched to be extra-stressed and having nightmares, as a few days before we went on holiday I was betrayed by someone in the company. He let me take all the blame and attack for something which was not my team's fault, and when I logically and professionally outlined why the assumptions that my team made a mistake were faulty, he lept on the bandwagon of proportioning out blame. It was then I saw that the soup of the day was Scape of the Goat, and I was served up with a dollop of creme fraiche and some croutons.
Tic tic tic tic tic tic tic tic tic tic went into overdrive.
I forced myself to not think about it.
I mostly succeeded, but when I failed, there it was-tic tic tic.
And so it was that we went into a shop in Oia, a fantastic little shop with fantastic little things, and I saw a fantatic little dress on the fantastic little shelf. I went for the long floor version of it, until Angus asked me why didn't I try on the short one? The short one, a nice A-line number with a shorter inside lining that doesn't hug the body tightly but looks cute?
My God. The short one was so short. So short that people....people would see me. Angus looked confused. "I don't understand what the problem is?" he asked. "You look fucking great."
"It's so short," I whisper. "I used to like my long legs showing but now...after last year, it's too hard."
"It's not like you'll wear this dress to work, babe," Angus replies. He's right, and the idea never even crossed my mind. But the problem is, it never occurred to me that I could be myself outside of work, either. I try the dress on. There is indeed more of me showing than I have had in a while. It is a lovely color and is not see through save for a small strip at the very bottom of the hem (well below the Magic Zone, which is safely ensconsed. Abracadabra.). Despite my nervousness, I buy the dress.
I am not a beautiful woman. I am average, and in being average I take great comfort. But I wore that dress the next day and I was amazed at how beautiful I could feel.
I realized that none of it is worth it-the tic tic tic tic tic. The stress. The inability to feel like I am worthy of anything, even after I work my ass off. My loyalty to my team is fierce but it cannot be what holds me here.
I wear my dress, and remember what it is like to feel good about myself in whatever small ways I can.
It is absolutely not suitable for work, but it is perfect for a summer barbecue or a walk on a Grecian island.
I wear my dress and my phone rang while I was there-it was the one call I did take. I had applied for an internal job, a large promotion in another area, away from rocket-riding gerbils. They wanted to interview me. They liked the sound
of me.
I have my interview this morning.
I am done with feeling bad.
-H.
PS-it is also my three year anniversary of blogging today. How's that for big days?
Posted by: Everydaystranger at
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