There’s a lot of freedom that comes with my new job, and I love it.
I can wear whatever I want because comfort and self-expression is more important than business suits with kitty heels. I’ve worn my black Converse to work more than any shoe in my closet, and it hasn’t been a problem.
With such a relaxed environment of acceptance, I thought I was free to be myself, which is a very weird and chaotic and random and proud-to-be-Black woman. I’ve come to realize I have to control my weird and chaos.
Some things, like my obsessive burpy-ness, can’t be controlled until I get medical things figured out. I feel guilty every time I burp, even when I keep my mouth closed. Another example: I didn’t know it was “different” to ask for a cup of milk when everyone else wants water. There’s so many things I thought were normal, like knowing what specific dates fall on certain weekdays (i.e. Earth Day is April 22nd, which is a Saturday this year), that are actually unconventional to others, and sometimes I have to fight myself to not feel like crap for being different.
Being ourselves is encouraged; it’s why we are the company we are. However, there are moments when I have to blend in. I can’t ramble and be a filter-less mess with my words, which makes up most of my being. I can’t simply make noises to describe how my weekend was because I can’t figure out the right words to do it justice. I can’t repeat the same sentence just to feel like I’m being heard; I have to learn that people are listening but simply not responding because I guess it’s hard to respond to most of what comes out of my mouth.
Everything I talk about on this blog, the unique quirks of my closet and the word jumble of thought spirals and the details of trips I get so excited about, can’t be discussed outside the safety of this home I created because it’s unconventional or uninteresting. I’ve quickly learned that things I’m interested in or excited about and want to have in-depth discussions about are things others don’t necessarily care for. Sure, there are things that make me weird simply because I’m a born and raised Tennessean, and I have no problem showing my ignorance in that regard.
However, I was born weird and unique and different, and I think that would always be the case no matter where I was born.
I love my job, and most of the time, it doesn’t feel like I’m working; I get excited about showing up to work, no matter what mood others are in. Although, it’s quickly shown me the only place I can be 100% accepted for being 110% myself without any sort of judgement and fear is my home.
Both my physical home that I’m still furnishing and the tiny empire of Simply Jamilah that is ruling the teeniest corner of the internet.