White Men and Wig Obsessions

White Men and Wig Obsessions

I don’t think I have ever worked somewhere where my hair was a topic of discussion as much as it has been since working for this company. I somewhat blame myself. I allowed myself to be open enough that, somehow, my honesty about a wig has turned into a frequent question about what is on my head.

My director informed me yesterday that the owner of the company asked about my hair. Apparently, he was unable to tell if my real hair was a wig or not. Keep in mind all of my wigs come from Amazon, and they are definitely the cheaper ones. But what I found even odder about the conversation was that he has never had a problem commenting on my hair before to my face, so why the change? But the time he asked, I was rocking my natural hair.

The director then proceeded to tell me that he asked if the other black woman in the office was wearing a wig. The director said, “Oh yea.”

On another note, I do find it interesting that when she started working here, her hair was natural and out. But about a week in, she has worn a wig with no natural hair to be revealed since. There is no judgment, but given that there are only two black women in this company, I wonder if her choice to conceal her natural hair is a conscious one or just a matter of convenience.

Back to me…

What is crazy to me is that the people who have the most comments about my hair are the white men in the office. The IT guy, who comes in once a week, makes a comment every time he sees me, even going as far as to tell me he prefers my real hair.

While I appreciate working for a company that hasn’t tried to punish me for my hair choices (because, let’s be for real, the biases are still real in the corporate world), I am over the fascination. It has taken me years to reach a point where I can leave my house with my natural hair, not in “ideal” curls but in the various levels of curl and puff with confidence. A confidence that comes after years of Eurocentric hair ideals messing with my psyche.

Even with this unwanted spotlight on my hair, I keep my head high, and I own every hairdo I rock to work. But I don’t like the feeling of my relative openness to talk about my hair is starting to make me feel like the star of some sort of freak show.

My “Weirdness” About Memorial Day

My “Weirdness” About Memorial Day

I need to start off with the fact that Memorial Day and Veteran’s Day are not the same. Memorial Day is to remember those who passed away while serving our country. Veteran’s Day is for all who have served.

It is probably not that serious in the grand scheme of things, but for some reason, I find great annoyance when I see people’s posts, especially a business, that seems to lump the two together.

I will also add, my husband served, as well as my father and several other family members. It s probably what makes me more aware of the way people seem to confuse the two days, but I think it would slightly bug me even if I had no connection to the military.

As a business owner and someone who works in marketing, I always feel weird about posting about certain holidays, and Memorial Day is one of them. I am an overthinker, so that doesn’t help my cringe.

I feel some type of way about posting sales for a holiday that is meant to honor the dead, but I am not immune to engaging in a sale or enjoying the day off (though my current job does not believe in taking off for Memorial Day). I try to acknowledge the day for what it is, but as a black business owner operating during an overly sensitive time period, I get wary that a potential customer will look at my business as “too political.”

Even crazier, I get worried that my “patriotic” post will attract extreme right-leaning followers who will then be offended when I make a reference to being a “black woman-owned business.” While I don’t care if my customers’ political views align with mine, I just don’t want it to be an issue when they engage with me and my business.

With all of the crazy that runs through my mind, I do choose to at least post about it. A few years ago, a friend of mine from college was killed while serving. Only months before, he had messaged me that he was finally going to get out of the military. I found out he was killed through Facebook. He had served for as long as I had known him, but to think he was ready to get out and finally start a new chapter in his life…

…it makes it that much more important that I acknowledge Memorial Day for what it is. A remembrance of those who made the ultimate sacrifice.

Therapy Journey (Part One)

Therapy Journey (Part One)

Last night, I reached a breaking point.

Google had told me that one of my oldest accounts was maxed out on storage, and I needed to clear space for storage or pay for it. That led me down the rabbit hole of old videos and pictures of my son.

My ovaries ached a little bit, looking at this little person I spent so much time with as a stay-at-home mom. And his little voice just hit me in the heart. But the longer I watched the videos, my mental state started crumbling.

Suddenly I wasn’t seeing a happy little toddler on my phone screen, but a flood of bad memories of things that happened during those years. Years of me feeling like I was failing as a young mother (thoughts I still struggle with now) while I was struggling to figure out my life.

Perspective and social media are amusing because they both can give you the false idea from the outside that everything is perfect for someone else. I look back on old memories and see comments of people reflecting positively on a happy moment in time that I shared. But I was struggling for years.

Don’t get me wrong, it wasn’t as if I never had a happy moment. I had plenty of them.

But last night made me realize that despite my growth as a woman, a mother, and a wife, I still have demons that I have only managed to quiet at times with noise. During the quiet, unexpected moments…they definitely rise against me.

Despite all of the change in practices and views on mental health, people often overlook the simple thing of cost and time that comes with taking care of your mental health. Even online therapy costs money, and spending time trying to find the right therapist causes me anxiety at the thought of spending time and money trying to find the right one before I even get help.

I finally looked into my healthcare options and started the process today to book my first session. My insurance offers options, thankfully, but they are a bit limited. I am hoping that this will be the first real step in healing the wounds I merely bandaged for years.

Today, I really hate where my desk is positioned. I have been crying as I type this, and I am exposed to my coworkers and people coming into the office. One delivery guy just made a comment about allergies…my eyes must be red (just checked, they are a little). But it is just a confirmation that I finally need to do something to heal myself because time doesn’t heal all wounds.

Have you gone to therapy? What has been your experience in tackling your mental health issues?

The Office Calorie Counter

The Office Calorie Counter

Working in an office comes with its downfalls, especially in the weight department.

While I make an effort to step away from my desk as often as possible, there is no denying that office jobs are not very active. It doesn’t help if you work someplace that provides snacks or lunch.

I am a whole grown-ass woman. I am very aware of my weight and the choices I make. But there is something greatly annoying about the type of coworkers (usually female) who feel the need to constantly talk about calories and diets.

Like I get it, there are a lot of calories in this free lunch. But I don’t need you to rain on my parade with your depressing facts while I’m just trying to save some money in these wonderful days of inflation.

There is one department at my company that seems to indulge in the conversation of calories every once in a while, but for the most part, I live in the safety of coworkers who believe in the power of snacks and a candy bar stash on a crappy day.

This weekend, I was “lucky” enough to train a possible new hire. While her whole personality didn’t sit right with my spirit, it was her unprovoked need to talk to me about the calories in snack candy packs that sealed her fate in my desire to never work with her again.

You may ask, why does this bother me or think that I am being ridiculous in even blogging about this. And to some degree, I would find that to be a perfectly valid point. But I figured this rambling would be a nice break from the random moments of racist comments in the office 😉

That being said, the office calorie counters remind me of reasons people hate returning back to the office or why they never liked being in the office to begin with. Despite, the problematic stories I have shared so far, I actually like most of my coworkers and even the environment most of the time. But calorie counters hold a special place in my heart of annoyances.

This weekend just reminded me of the delights of being forced to interact with coworkers who feel the need to impose upon you their personal beliefs. Beliefs that are delivered with judgment and zero sense of awareness always make working in the office that much more enjoyable.