If You Wouldn't Say It to Me in Front of Your Wife, You Shouldn't Say it At All
I air drum in my head. It’s a weird confession, but it helps me get through the day. I don’t even actually know how to truly play drums. It just helps to keep me from grinding my already worn down molars. Who am I lying to? I air drum outside my head, at work occasionally, while debating what line is causing an error, or what I should eat for lunch, did I turn off the lights?. It doesn’t matter, I think it’s a beautiful coping mechanism.
I sit at my brightly fluorescent lit desk, air drumming a couple of songs while debating what else I should use to define a clip in a for loop. I take pride in my work. I like to get in early, I like to get dressed up for the job. Not because I have to, because I like to look my best, generally enjoy fashion and lets face it- its fall there are new sweaters to buy.
However, I have a confession to make. As much as I love getting dressed up sometimes I opt out of the new fitted dress for a pair of jeans. Because sometimes I get looked at- or pointed out rather, by the upper management for ‘looking good’. A searing bright spotlight follows me when I pass by their offices, and I tend to drop my head and shoulders when I pass. Its not that I don’t enjoy an honest compliment but I kill myself at the office trying to make a difference, trying to work the hardest, and trying to go above and beyond what is expected of me. I don’t want to the girl with the nice legs, or the ‘great body’. How about you compliment me for something I have earned? Something you have hired me to do? Something I excel at. And lets face it dudes, if you wouldn’t say something in front of your wife to me, then you probably shouldn’t say it at all.
More often than not I have found that reactions to women around my office in particular can wax and wane with what they wear, their current weight, or their hair color - but honestly no one ever comments about what my male counterparts are wearing. I hear about their clients, their accounts, and their success.
Because of this, every morning that I wake up and my journey to the closet becomes a chess match: Will this dress be seen as my unconscious invitation? Do I feel comfortable enough today to not only fight off men on the bus, on the streets to work, but also my own boss? Do you think he thinks about being objectified in his mirror?