ConZervative

Another girl didn't show up today. I'm sensing a trend you guys will probably be offended if I say but I'm so angry right now from everything that happened today that I'm just about ready to say it.

We have a mixed-ethnicity team. My boss and I are white, and each keyholder feels like they were brought on to fix the whiteness problem (not that they're not also qualified); so one is black, one is Asian, and one is originally from Russia. Then the team of sales associates is pretty black with a few Asian and white exceptions.

Fine, right? Like who cares what your skin color is as long as you can do your job.

So when I started to do more of the hiring/interviewing, I obviously didn't pay any attention to the person's name or anything else that would indicate that they were black. I figured that I mean sure black people are usually a little different from me, but it shouldn't affect work performance all that much. Right? Like maybe we don't entirely see eye to eye but you can do your job and that's the important part.

We hired a team of a bunch of girls of various ethnicity, and we've already started having problems.

The black girls are on their phones more often, they need to be told more often what their tasks are, they are way less likely to just find things to do. And they just decide not to show up for their shifts. A lot.

The three or four girls we have who are white would never in their lives just not show up for a shift. We've had it happen three times this week with a few of the others.

We would never dream of texting our boss “cool” after she reminds us we need to come in for our shift. And then just never show.

I'm so sick of it. The entitled attitude. The rudeness, the inconsideration, the one word answers, and our black keyholder who won't sit the fuck down and let me take my position in the company.

I'm so tired of it.

I'm also sipping a salted caramel hot chocolate with a shot of irish cream. Apparently tipsy blogger me is a little more blunt.

So like I used to say, I don't think it's their skin color that makes them this way. But I can see a pattern clearly. When I think of the most dependable girls on the team, they're white. The ones with the best work ethic, the ones who are always around and always polite, the ones who come into work presentable and in dress code.

The others are sullen, hostile, lazy, often call out and don't find coverage, respond to texts with one word or don't respond at all, and act as entitled as anything I've ever seen.

I thought when I moved to the city I would get to meet plenty of people of all kinds and realize that the things I hear about other ethnic backgrounds aren't necessarily true. But all I've done is meet a dozen or so black people who treat me and my boss like crap, and a bunch of white girls with great work ethics and who are very polite.

I can just seriously sense a pattern. It's awful to say but I don't know what else it could be. I tried to give a bunch of girls the benefit of the doubt, especially the ones who showed up to their interviews looking really cute and all put together, but they show up to their first shift in a crop top and leggings and sneakers.

What the fuck is wrong with you?

So. Today my boss got a text from one of the new girls. It said, “Would it be okay if I switched my shift with someone and work tomorrow instead?”

Ok wtf does this even mean? Are you calling out? You know you have permission to switch your shift. We went over that.

My boss texted her back and said, you're scheduled when you're scheduled for a reason and it's in line with your availability so you're expected to be here. Finding coverage is your responsibility.

This bitch texted back “Cool.”

I don't think we'll be hearing from her again. But then again, on one hand I would never show my face around a company that I'd deserted again. I don't know what she'll do. She obviously doesn't have the same comprehension of shame as I do.

I'm so sick of it. And I'm afraid I'm going to get fired if I keep going to my boss about it. I don't know what to do.

But I'm sensing a pattern and maybe I should stick to girls who haven't given me so much grief.

My ex texted me yesterday to ask if we were filing separately. It shocked me – I haven't heard from him in over a month. It's been nice. I don't know how to feel anymore. I'm just so caught between how I feel and how I want to feel and how I think I should feel.

I want to feel sure of myself and strong, and I think I should probably feel happy, relieved, cathartic – but I'm just sad.

I'm sad. That sentence was supposed to be longer but it wasn't. I'm just so sad, so achingly terribly sad. It doesn't have hints of anger or resentment or anything else. My heart is just so sad.

There are things that make me happy and I forget about the sad, though, and I only remember it when it comes back. But I can't always ignore it.

I wonder if I'll be sad for the rest of my life like this.

Good morning! I'm on the train into work. Yesterday was my day off so I didn't post – too busy downing a ton of soda and sourdough bread bowl that I broke down and bought at Panera the other day because I wanted to. It wasn't until later that I realized I had nothing to put in the bowl, but that's okay. It was edible and mostly crust and that's my favorite thing.

I've been thinking about quitting my job and looking for something else, or possibly moving to Florida. My mom has a house there and she's invited me and my boyfriend to come live in it for a while.

I like the work here, but the keyholders are making me miserable. I was running the business day after inventory a few days ago with two of our new hires. The store manager and the keyholders had been there since five that morning doing inventory, but they were supposed to leave the selling day to me. One of them, the one who asked to be demoted, is still being short and snappy with me and not making eye contact. The other one, the one I didn't have a lot of problems with before, is apparently trying to pick up the other one's slack. I went to poke my head out the door to say hello to some bystanders since we had set up a game out there, and she goes “Do you want to just um tell the girls that you're going outside?”

I'm like oh I'm not going outside, I'm just saying hello. I turn to go.

“Yeah but I need you to tell these two girls where you're going.”

Excuse me? You need me to tell other people who aren't you where I'm going for fifteen seconds?

I didn't, I just poked my head out and said hello and came back in. Guess what wasn't on fire??? The store. Guess who died?? Neither of those girls.

She needs to mind her own business. I talked to my boss about it – that wasn't the only incident that day. She doesn't know her place. I think someone basically told her she was going to train me? Like thanks but you suck a training.

The night before, I had counted the money in the register and came up almost ten dollars short. That's a pretty big number for a non cash heavy location. If we'd done a couple dozen cash transactions and someone was really bad at their job, the incorrect change could add up to that amount. But since there were only a couple cash transactions, someone had royally messed up.

So I asked this bitch to count the drawer again like a good manager. I may have made a mistake.

So we count and put it in a spreadsheet, and then we input those numbers into the register. I did the pre-count in the spreadsheet, and came up almost ten short. Of course, at the end of the day if we can't find the money, we put those actual numbers into the register. But first we have to try to find the missing money.

This girl, however, has no understanding of what any of these numbers mean. She just knows count and insert and if there's a discrepancy then we use the physical dollar amount in the store. So when I asked her to re-count she just goes, “Oh you don't have to do that, just use the numbers in the log.”

I'm like yes but we're missing money and we need to look for it. She's like no, you don't, just use the numbers in the log. That's how much money is in the store. I'm like yes I know that if we can't find the money then these are the numbers we need to be using, but the register is off by almost ten dollars and that's a big number and we need to find it asap.

She turns away and holds her hands fingers pointed away from her on each side as if losing patience. “You're just not listening to me.”

I don't know if she meant “We are having a miscommunication,” or “You're being disobedient.” Either way she wouldn't communicate with me any more that evening. I re-approached a few minutes later and just said “Look if there's something I'm not understanding then we can try again. I'll try listening but I feel like it's a misunderstanding of how the cash system works.”

She wouldn't even look at me.

I don't think she has any understanding of what these numbers actually mean. It felt like she was going through the motions but when something went wrong she couldn't understand that yes we've counted the total cash but the number we're coming up with is lower than it needs to be and that's bad. Because that means we're missing money.

If she had asked me to explain, we wouldn't have a problem. But she just shut me out and refused to talk about it further. Unprofessional and disrespectful.

She butts her head into things I'm doing like she's scared I won't do them right.

11 hours later:

I'm about to scream. I genuinely do not think she has any idea that I am the ASM. Today there was a discrepancy with the register and she asked me if I took in cash. I said yes and then suddenly she's on the phone with my boss.

Half an hour before that, she's interrupting a client interaction to remind me to take out the trash. Then she walks over and starts interacting with customers. I couldn't exactly say something while there were customers in the store. It turned into a huge sale. I could have had that sale. She can take out the trash when she thinks it needs to happen.

The two things that are bothering me; my boss says I'm not being assertive enough. This is true. I didn't say anything to her today about her behavior, but that's because I'm not confident that I'd do it properly. I'm about to start though. But on the other hand, it really shouldn't be my job to make these girls fall in line.

But I mean it should. I need to stand up for myself. I just don't know what the fuck I'm supposed to say when she just goes, “Do you wanna take the trash out?” But it's not a question. She's A) reminding me that it needs to be done and B) telling me it's going to be me.

The toughest thing I've done back is give her a look. But I said “Yeah” not “Why are you still talking to me like that?”

It's not like I can say “No.” That would just be immature and the trash wouldn't get taken out.

I don't have any problem taking the trash out, but I have a huge problem with her taking it upon herself to organize closing. Without asking me what my preferences are.

I don't ask her what her preferences are when we close because I don't care. I expect her to fall in line. But I'm just utterly helpless when she doesn't.

I think I'm going to get fired. I obviously can't do this job. Part of me wants to quit. Hire this bitch, she already runs the store when I'm around and you're not.

Does my blog even match its own descriptions anymore? I mean we talk about politically charged topics but I feel like most of what I've said is social commentary and not so much politics. But I mean at the end of the day they influence each other.

I had a thought for a blog post today but I don't know if you guys will like it?

When applications come through I'm always conflicted; my boss doesn't want me to be too picky about things like spelling and grammar. So, for example, looking through resumes today I cringed at a person who put

RESEPTIONIST

as their last job title. See in my boss's mind, that would be something that's too picky. But in my mind, that's just the least a person could do is spell correctly.

I mean I understand that these are kids and they won't always have spotless presentation and her priority is that they can smile and talk to customers. But it rubs me the wrong way.

So later this afternoon when I was headed back to the train station I was sitting behind this mom and her daughter who were black. The daughter was the cutest thing I've ever seen, maybe like 3 or 4 years old, amazingly cute and she was singing, and laughing, and she was a happy kid. I was really happy for her. Her mother was being attentive to her as well, and watching her and interacting with her, which I love to see because I see too many little kids whose parents seem to just be along for the ride but don't interact with their kids.

So I was listening to them talk to each other for a while because I couldn't get over how happy this kid was. She was really making my day.

I should probably preface this with a couple things; I hate it when people don't know how to speak properly, especially in the workplace.

“She didn't say nuthin” isn't my speed and “I acksed earlier” sounds retarded. You sound retarded. Especially if you're in the workplace.

I'm sorry but that's what I think. That's not a word. That's a double negative. How am I supposed to trust that you can do your job when you haven't even learned how the English language works? Like literally the easiest thing people have to do (talking) and you can't do that right? Obviously the exception to this is people for whom it's their second language. That I don't mind, language barrier issues are never something I judge about at all. I work with a couple people whose primary language isn't English, and who sometimes make mistakes when they talk, and that doesn't bother me one bit.

So here's the problem – that's racist. Right? Like that's how a lot of black people talk, and we're not supposed to not like it. I don't know why anyone would speak in a way that literally makes them sound retarded, but I don't think it's because they're black.

Anyway. This little girl and her mom were on the train and her mom was saying things like that to her. About “Such and such wasn't nuthin and I ain't cooking no nuthin and you acksed that earlier and I'm making tacos tonight and ain't cookin nuthin else.” But not in a angry way, or like mean. Just conversational. Like this is just how she talks.

I'm like – even if I did talk like that I'd at least notice that it was wrong and be extra careful not to do that around my kid – that way you don't end up with a teenager who talks that way. Those go from cute but stupid sounding to unappealing and repulsive. Don't you want your kid to be at the top of her game, don't you want other people to hear her speak and think highly of her?

I don't get it. Maybe I sound horrible, maybe I sound totally racist. I don't know. I just think when it comes to your kids you would want them to have the best life possible, and that involves educating them. But what will any kid do if they to go school and learn that the way their mother speaks is actually incorrect? They'll probably just dismiss it, and sound like the kid who just can't get it through their head. If I were directing a school play and the person can't even get their words in the right order, I wouldn't cast them, and it wouldn't be about their skin color, it's because they don't know how to talk.

On a side note – the guy I pointed out to you guys when I was on the train the other night, the one who was obnoxious and put his stuff all over the table and moved when there was an open one, is on this train too. And he just hit his leg on the table and it looked like it hit his knee and he was like about to scream and rubbing it like crazy trying not to make sounds because of it and I thought it was hilarious in a sad way because karma.

This might be the most charged topic I've really dived into, but don't worry. It gets worse.

We hired a bunch of new people at work this last few weeks. A couple of them are actually really good but I'm so conflicted. The two girls I worked with were both excellent with clients and had pretty decent sized sales, but one of them came in in leggings and a crop-top and sneakers, and the other one left six minutes early without “axing” for permission. Just kinda went and got her coat and I'm like... “Are you leaving now?” and she's like well like in six minutes. Just wearing her coat and getting her purse.

I would never just go get my purse before closing time unless I had already asked permission to leave early, which I do sometimes but I always ask.

So I gave her a look and I'm like “.... okay.” Now I have to keep in mind that she left a six minutes before 4, because I'm sure when she texts my boss she'll say her shift was 11:30 to 4 and probably gloss over the fact that she left early.

The other girl also took a bracelet off a display and was just wearing it around, and pointed it out to me midday like yeah I borrowed this.

I'm like 1) we never take jewelry and just wear them without signing them out and 2) even if we do borrow the jewelry we never take it off a fixture! People worked hard on those!! Argh!!

It didn't occur to her to ask if it was even okay to borrow the jewelry at all.

Both girls had their phones out plenty even though my boss and I had already said they can only be on the sales floor with manager's permission.

The problem is, the company I work for makes us run our own social media platforms for our location. That means at any given time plenty of girls are out with their phones out taking pictures and setting things up on our feeds. I don't know much about social media but I don't think it's a good idea to have employees slated for hours of time to look at their phones. Corporate should run the social media aspect of the business, not the sales people. Retail needs to be focused on retail and every once in a while marketing and floor sets. We have a keyholder whose whole purpose, it appears, is to run the company's blog.

I just don't think the company is set up for success. We have very low footfall in our stores because the company doesn't do any marketing, but of those few people we don't get a lot of sales because our team is so focused on everything else we have to do. We're constantly changing up the marketing, we're constantly filling out forms, the iPads are constantly glitching and we have to have someone calling I.T, the printers don't work so we have to call I.T, girls are constantly calling out because this job is so boring because there aren't a lot of customers, there are just endless tasks to do. Corporate is constantly sending us e-mails with new things to print out and put in meaningless binders, but they don't put any emphasis on us reading the papers. Every Sunday I print out the week ending reports and file them obediently in the binder, and I don't even really look at them. I mean I could if I wanted to, but there's no point to it. We need to be already putting together a plan for this upcoming week and how we'll do better.

Our systems are old and useless and hard to use and follow and train people on, our return policy is very strict and it makes people angry, and we're constantly getting people in who want to take advantage of the online deals, which are always better than what we have in store.

The promotions they run are ridiculous and do not help drive traffic or increase our sales. Instead of the kind of sale where you buy a certain amount and you get more, they just discount things you want to buy. Instead of buy one get one free, which would not harm our average sale but would increase the units sold, it's 50% off. And we're supposed to sell twice as much.

It's the same sale – you just need to market it as a BOGO instead. We'd make so much more money.

If it were up to me, I would just say it that way, offer it to people that way. But this company is also pretty strict about spinning promos. I can't win.

This was supposed to be a rant about staff though. Anyway, I'm conflicted. Both of these girls I worked with yesterday were great with customers, made real connections, ultimately had good sales. But overall they were also sloppy, one was skanky, and one was lazy. Just not a great mix at all.

Today me and my boss are working with just us, so I'll be able to talk about it with her at least. That's something great about my boss is she's completely accessible.

My ex-husband updated his relationship status and I saw it today when I logged on my facebook for the first time in months. I'm trying to figure out how I should feel vs. how I do feel about it. I encouraged him to date around and find himself someone more suited. I really do hope it lasts. She's his age, and that's important.

But I hate him if it lasts, because that means that everything he couldn't give me just gets given to someone else, someone who maybe even deserves it, but I was the one who built the foundation for that to happen. I only reaped pain and suffering from what I sowed into our marriage, but she can just waltz in and take the better half of things.

I hope he makes her happy. I really do. He could have made me happy but he didn't want to work for it, and now he wants to work and it'll all belong to her.

But I encouraged him to try. Our divorce is going to go through silently in a few months and we'll both be free. I don't know... I just didn't want any of this. I guess there was just a big explosion and this is where I landed, and fortunately for me it's so nice here that few parts of me want to go back and rebuild.

I did everything I could. I failed.

In marriage therapy, we talked a lot about the difference between hurt and harm. How something can be painful but in the long run good for you. Getting a cavity filled was her example. It hurts, but it's not harming you.

My husband didn't understand that. He reacted to everything, hurt or harm, the same way. He said that way of thinking was ridiculous and excused people from hurting each other's feelings.

I am glad I learned this difference – not that I didn't know it, but I'm glad she taught me how to articulate it.

Talking with your partner about something you don't like can be uncomfortable for them, but you're not harming the relationship.

This is important in the world too. Things our parents do when we are children might hurt us but not harm us. Grounding us or spanking us might hurt emotionally or physically, but it's to a good purpose – discipline. Being disciplined hurts, but it's usually not harmful if it's done correctly.

Getting a bad grade in school that you earned by not working hard can hurt your chances of getting into the Honors society or a college you'd like to go to, but it isn't harmful because you're learning your limitations. Just how far can you go without trying? That's something you need to know.

I tried to make sure that if I needed to do something that hurt my partner, I never did anything to harm them. I know that talking about certain things might be painful, but that in the long run it could help.

It's difficult to have people who don't understand this in my life – especially after everything that happened, I had to make sure I was with someone who knows that discomfort is part of life, and that being complained about is something that just happens.

I needed to get away from people who are retaliatory. Who react first and think later. Who don't give the benefit of the doubt. Who are not understanding.

But I think it's important for us as humans to remember that the difference between hurt and harm is time and sacrifice. I am sacrificing a little bit of happiness right now so that the circumstance I'm in can survive. Same thing with meetings with your boss or teachers. We need to talk this through now so that it doesn't bite us later.

Some people don't understand or agree with that, I guess. And maybe that's okay for some people. But there's a big difference between hurt and harm. If we don't know this, we'll never be able to accept constructive criticism. We'll never be able to allow others to help us better ourselves. We'll never let go of our ego, and we'll see attackers everywhere.

Wow! I just checked my stats and I had over sixty views this past Wednesday!

Hi!!! You're real!

This can't be all my boyfriend ;* hi babe

Maybe people actually like me?? It's just that I had a YouTube channel – well I still have one but I never post anymore – and that never went anywhere. But this looks like it's climbing!

On that encouraging note, let's talk about emotional trauma!!! :D

Okay, so let's be totally clear. Up until recently I was not acquainted with emotional trauma. I was not equipped to talk about it and I had a pretty good life. There was a death in my family but I was so young that it didn't affect me the way it might have someone older. I often think of that as a blessing that I was so young. I avoided all the pain of my parents divorce by not understanding why that would be painful for anyone. I was very lucky as a kid to live in a great neighborhood and go to a good school. I reached 16 basically unscathed, the worst things I had gone through were in my nightmares – although they were pretty horrible – and that's nothing to speak of, although I didn't know it at the time. Then I met my husband. A couple years into my marriage that all changed and I was never the same again.

To be even more clear: it could have been worse. It really could have. There wasn't a day I went to work without my eyes puffy, but they weren't puffy from being struck. The man never laid a finger on me without my say-so. Never even got in my face. Never looked at another girl around me.

He had this horrible sense of chivalry. He'd open my car door but he'd scream at me the whole way home if I told him I was disappointed that we were late to my sister's concert. He'd never ask my parents or my family for a dime, ever, but he'd tell me they were secretly ashamed of me.

He would say anything, promise anything, scream anything, to win the argument, but never stand by a thing he said. He'd get angry if I brought up anything he had said before. Like I wasn't allowed to listen but if I didn't listen he'd scream.

The monsters in my nightmares had nothing on a man whose words had no meaning. You start wondering if you're going crazy. If he never said the things he says he never said. If you made them up. If you're really a bad wife. If you're trying to get him in trouble.

It left me unstable. I still am in a lot of ways. When I met my boyfriend, I had a hard time doing anything near him for fear he would turn into that creature with black eyes and balled fists. I'd ask him to repeat things and I'd repeat them back to myself, hoping that my mind would hold onto his words, trying to remind myself these had meanings and I had better listen. I was afraid to move around his space, to move anything, to touch anything, to ask for anything, to say anything. There were times I would just sit there, and six years of experience told me not to open my mouth, or everything would come crashing down like it always had.

He got me talking. He helped me practice, by moving things on his desk and putting them back, by turning up the heat or the AC, by wearing colors I'd been too scared to wear, styles I had been told didn't work for me. I started wearing makeup again, and perfume, and I was finally losing weight.

But there are still times when he'll make eye contact – something my husband wouldn't do, not even when things were good – and I can see that he genuinely is listening to me. And something in my soul starts to cry. Not even because it feels nice. I'm overwhelmed with guilt. What did I do. To deserve anything less than this. Why would someone hurt me like he did. Why couldn't he have been this way. I could have been happy. I would have stood by him through anything if he could have looked me in the eyes.

My boyfriend always has a hand on me, on my hand in the car, on my back when we're walking. He's always looking at me, always asking me questions about what I'm doing, if I'm having fun, if I'm excited for such and such a thing we have planned.

In the beginning I was excited. But sometimes now I just feel bitter. All this joy I feel now only throws into sharper contrast the six years I lost. But I am a kindhearted person and the rage spills over into tears before I can let the wave crest. Mixed with my sense of abandonment, I can barely hold myself together, and my eyes tear up and he's sitting there having parked to go into the McDonald's instead of going through the drive through because he knows it gives me anxiety, and wondering what he did wrong.

I wasn't allowed to ask for things like that, and he offers them freely.

It's so painful. Sometimes it's more painful than what I went through. Like I've been so low for so long, I've been so hurt and so scared for so long, that my heart can't even handle being lifted up. And it can't, some nights.

I still cry sometimes, randomly, when I'm lying in bed. I don't know if it's because I learned that crying is a necessary part of falling asleep, or if I've forgotten that I'm safe now and that he can't hurt me anymore, or if it's that twisted grief for my marriage that I still feel, sharp as ever. That heartbreak that will never leave me.

I suspect that it's all of these things. And I know I never had to see someone die, but I wanted to die some nights. No, I didn't. I wanted him to see me die. I wanted him to know it was his fault and live with that pain forever. I realized our marriage couldn't work around the time I realized I was fantasizing about his pain. About showing him how things feel. That maybe I didn't love him all that much either.

So: the reason I'm writing about this stuff is because there will always be emotional and mental tribulation in everyone's life. More for some than for others, but we have all been in pain. We've all been broken. Again. Some more than others.

I experienced a pretty standard brokenness for the world, but something world-breaking for someone with my past.

I just think it's important these days to remember that we have a lot of say about how things turn out after things happen. You hear a lot of people these days using their trauma as an excuse.

My ex husband went through the worst thing that can happen to a person. His life was the most miserable thing I had ever heard. He had been put through every single one of the worst traumas I could imagine, and it showed.

He let it show. He used it as an excuse. He hadn't grown from it – he had let it consume him.

Why are you yelling at me? My mom hit me when I was a kid. I'm violent. Why are you telling me you don't love me? I lived on the streets for a while after I ran away – I know how to lie really well. Why are you calling me horrible names? I was abandoned by my family and no one wanted me. I was in the foster care system and I had to believe that no one would ever help me. I got mean.

Why don't you ever want to sleep with me? I was raped when I was eight.

I stopped caring, I'll admit it. I found that eventually even those weren't good enough excuses. You're over thirty – you need to have dealt with this trauma by now.

Maybe I should have been better about it and gotten him help sooner. Maybe I could have held it together long enough. Here come the what-ifs my dad warned me about if I got a divorce. He told me I'd always wonder if I could have helped him.

But there came a day when I didn't care that he'd been raped twenty years ago – you don't treat people like that and stay married. I think I said that to him once.

Maybe this has caused me trauma. Certainly the fact that I can't hold in my panic attack sometimes when I'm asked what I'd like to do this evening indicates that I'm not alright in my head. I already had anxiety. Now I panic easily. My boyfriend doesn't mean to – he really means well and I love him. But he doesn't understand why I'm not just happy the way I say I am. Because I am. You just can't tell sometimes because the happy HURTS. It hurts so fucking bad.

I wonder if I'll ever be the same.

I'm on the train on my way into work – it's pretty cold out. Yesterday I had my day off so my boyfriend and I went out to look at an apartment. It was a ton of fun and it's the cutest apartment I've ever seen, it even has extra space for our desks and tons of closet space and a linen closet. It's just that it's at the top of our budget and it's not much closer to work – it would shave off like maybe 25 minutes, 35 if it's an express train.

But I really want it. The landlords seemed totally cool and I know I can afford it with the money I'm making now, and I'd be with him, which I really need to be soon. Life is simple when we're together.

So I said I'd talk about fat shaming and what that subject seems like to me. There's a lot of shaming that happens in the world – loosely described, it means being disparaging about a person's characteristics (or at least that's how I imagine it) – and I think that while it may be unkind, it serves a purpose. Society shames things that it doesn't want to be a part of, for moral or immoral reasons, for any reasons.

As a society we shame things that we find immoral, unprofessional, or too far out there. We do this with our body language, our eye contact, our words and our actions. Our intentions aren't always picked up by the person we are being influenced by and we're not always intentionally trying to influence them, but we all react to things we do not want in our vicinity.

If I am on the train and someone is being rude or talking obnoxiously, you can usually tell by the way I posture myself. I might purse my lips or straighten my posture or huff.

If I see that one of my employees is being treated badly by a customer I will intervene, putting myself non-threateningly between the customer and the employee, and command their attention, bringing with me as much authority as I can muster. This happened a few days ago, when a customer brought in a mess of old bracelets and charms and tags that didn't match each other at all, and was giving a sales associate a hard time about it. She was demanding replacements even though we A) didn't carry these anymore, B) couldn't tell what a lot of them had been and C) have no proof of purchase in our stores.

All of which I had to step in and inform her of, because I did not like her body language and the way she was speaking to my associate.

Often times, if we're in public, we will restrain our displeasure at someone's actions. For example, the other night on the train when I saw that fatass being disparaging to the other lady, I did not step in. But I'll rant about it on here to show my displeasure as I did.

When it comes to physical attributes, there is a lot of debate about whether shaming someone can push them to be better. There are a lot of stories about unhealthy people who were shamed about their weight/diet and stood up and made it better to spite their abuser. But it isn't clear to me that through their reaction they have not made their abuser an actual force for good in their life at all.

I've been heavier before and I can't really say if fat shaming ever helped me. I do recall – and I actually talk about this moment pretty often – a time in high school when I was made fun of for my lack of cute, and it stayed with me and made me want to look nicer.

I was in sixth grade and I was going to a small private school. There were only a couple kids in each grade and it was a religious institution, although less so than others. Most of the girls were already sexualized – booty shorts and too-tight shirts, padded bras, straightened bleached hair, eyeliner, heels. Zero of which I was allowed to wear. We were twelve.

I wonder often if I would have been popular if I had been allowed to do those things for my image, or if the reason I wasn't allowed to is that I didn't have the body for it. I was always a chunky kid.

The head of the pack was a taller girl – the skinniest and most cocky, the one whose dad coached the basketball team where I sat on the bench and watched while cameramen took pictures of little girls in booty shorts.

She really was beautiful. I mean sure, in a shallow way. But someone would love her. She would never be without suitors. She would never lack a prom date. She would never have to buy her own drinks.

Pros and cons. Right?

One time she and I were talking. Keep in mind I was not a well socialized child and back then I had no idea what was acceptable or socially viable to talk about and with whom. But one time I told her she was beautiful, and that I bet all the boys had crushes on her.

She says to me “Sure, but they don't really like me, just how I look. That's where you're lucky not to look good. When a guy says he likes you, you'll know it's for your personality.”

Yep, she was twelve. I don't remember being particularly offended, because it was a backhanded compliment and I didn't know what those were yet. I already knew I was ugly. The boy I did have a crush on was the ugliest at the school and limped. Even he didn't give me the time of day.

Of course now that I'm older it's easier to understand. No one should have been thinking about anyone that way when we were kids. But everyone thought of her that way already. I was just a potato or something.

Anyway that moment stuck with me most out of every moment at that school. I tell it to people when I describe myself as an ugly kid, because now that I'm older and I've grown out of a lot of my weight and my acne and learned how to be presentable, I'm decent-looking enough that no one would call me ugly.

No one hits on me either really but that's fine by me most of the time. I have enough to deal with. I get just enough second glances and random smiles to keep my ego where I like it and not so much that anyone has anything to worry about (: A random extra donut in my bag this evening when I left work, a little extra attention when I go out to eat, a little extra alcohol in my drinks sometimes, but never anything forward.

It definitely didn't make my problems worse, what she said. It alerted me that my suspicions about my appearances were true, and that I wasn't imagining things. That my sense of self was pretty accurate.

Today it makes me proud of how far I've come. A low to measure my highs against. Looking in the mirror now, no one would say I didn't have beauty in some measure. They might say I'm thirty pounds heavier than the standard for my height (which I am) but that I wear it well and I know how to dress it to work. They might say that I have acne (which I do) but that my style with cosmetics is a classy and natural way to get around that. They might say that my hair isn't an attractive color (which it's not).

That's it, I don't actually do anything to help my hair situation (:

I honestly don't think that it harmed me when she spoke her mind like that. Part of me knew she was right, and thought that she might be genuinely trying to pass along some wisdom, or encourage me, in a bitchy way.

I mean it hurt. But it didn't harm me. It was emotionally painful but nothing that lowered my chances in life. But I think it was actually my decision not to let it hinder me.

That's a whole other two conversations: the difference between hurt and harm, and the fact that we decide whether we let emotional pain lower our quality of life.

Read on :)

I met someone very disagreeable yesterday, on the subway. So let me tell you more about my commute;

I wake up around 5:30, 6:00, get coffee maybe and get to the train station by 7 ish, for my train. The train ride into the city is maybe an hour and a half. It takes another half an hour for me to get to the subway, get on it, ride to my stop, and make it to work. It adds up to be almost exactly two hours each way. Every day.

After work I just do it all again but backwards. I commute a part-time job on top of my full time one. Which is fine due to how much money I make.

Anyway, on my way home yesterday I got on a train but it's destination changed two stops before mine, and everyone had to get off. I assumed something was wrong with the train or it was time for a break for the driver and it was impromptu, or someone had called out of work or something. I'd never seen it happen before but stuff happens.

So we got off the train and waited at that stop for the next one, which arrived maybe 30 seconds later. No big deal, right?

Behind me, a middle-aged woman with lots of bags and badly applied makeup (who may have been a dude) started talking – to no one in particular – about “I don't get why they do that. Why board us and then make us get off again? So ridiculous.” I figured she might be expecting a response, and she continued babbling until I said, “Something probably went wrong with the train.”

“No,” she snapped at me, “they do this all the time, they board us then make us get off. Like, ugh.”

Ok. I just turned away. It was no big deal. She'd been on a train to the rail station – no trains were leaving soon, she was in no rush.

Some people just like to complain.

A day later:

I'm on the train at the moment headed home – a very large ugly woman sat in the three-seater diagonal to myself, and put her bags up as if to say I have this seat and it is mine. I hate fat people who do that.

Anyway a woman I think I recognize was walking down the aisle and couldn't find a seat, so she turned and gestured to the seat next to the fat woman. The fat woman made a big huff, rolled her eyes, made a huge point of acting like it was a ton of effort to move her bags, thumped out into the aisle and let the other woman past.

It was gross to watch. What the fuck is your problem. You're taking up three seats fatass. The only way anyone will like you ever is if you at least act apologetic – like you wish you didn't have to take up three seats.

My heart was pounding already when the other woman said sweetly, “I know... it looks like it's a seat for one person but ... it's actually three.”

I thought the fatass would stab someone. But she didn't because she's a fatass I guess.

I'm also not very nice.

I met the District Manager today at work. He stopped by for a visit. I'm the ASM, so without the SM in the store I was in charge. I didn't realize it at the time, but he didn't know who I was until I mentioned being the ASM. After that he was a bit different, but I'm glad I got to see what he was like when he thought I was no one very special.

Anyway that was fun. He took up a lot of our time for other projects but I'm glad we talked. He's young for a DM, like early thirties. Super gay, boyfriend from Argentina(?) I think. Crazy chill. Awesome, smart guy.

So I come from companies where not taking a break is like a big no no. This company apparently isn't like that – my keyholder didn't take a break and he didn't seem to mind. I mind, because we A) don't have the hours for people to not take breaks and B) the law and C) I told you to take a break. And you didnt. I don't like that very much. I'd never work with my boss and just ignore her directive to take a break.

UPDATE!

The fatass got off the train and I mouthed “What the fuck?” to the other woman, who just cackled and said “Thank you for that exclamation.” And is now 100% texting someone about what I said and looking over at me and smiling every few seconds in amusement ^–^

Anyway – a bit later she asked if she could stick around for another hour or so. I texted my boss to ask if that was okay because I did want her help, and she said yes. But still no break. I mean, this is grey area though, sure, so whatever.

Then when five comes around she goes, “I'm just going to clock out and stay and help.”

....?

I told her that that was probably not okay to do and she's like well no one will know.

I texted my boss about it and now they'll both know I was the one who told.

Ughhh can't everyone just do what is legal?? Why does this girl think that's acceptable?? Our business could get sued to high heaven if there's video evidence of her staying later after clocking out. It's 100% not okay.

My day started off great and turned super stressful.

Headed home now though. Day off tomorrow! Going to look at an apartment with my boyfriend in the morning.

Thanks for the support by the way. I love getting to write and feel like maybe someone out there is amused or learning something.

Next post we talk about fat shaming!! <3

I had an awful nightmare last night. I haven't written much about my nightmares – mostly because they partially went away when I met my boyfriend. I used to have nightmares that someone did something very wrong – shot me, for example. The pain was horrible, too. I would wake up aching.

These days, when I have a nightmare, I dream that I do something very wrong. When I lucid dream I can move things around and try to make the situation better, but the older I get the less I lucid dream but the more real and terrifying my dreams become.

The fact that this used to happen every night reminds me how different things are for me now. I used to cry every night too – the nights when there was no conflict, and I didn't end up in tears, were few and far between. It was that or scream back, and I don't like people who raise voices, but I have nothing against people who grieve. So I chose grief over revenge.

These days I only cry maybe a couple times a month, and that's mostly when I'm being affected by hormones anyway. Real sobbing, real grief, real “kill me” tears are rare now.

Same thing with nightmares.

That's why when my boyfriend says I cry a lot, it breaks my heart a little. Because I don't cry much at all, and my whole family has noticed. My dad doesn't rush into my room at 2AM anymore because I'm sobbing trying to reason with a horrible man. He rushes into my room at 2AM to ask if I have chips (:

I think that's been the hardest part of this transition. I've come so far and learned so much and grown into a bigger person and my ex is the only one who will ever really know it, the only one who can actually be proud of me for who I am now.

But on the flipside, maybe that's for the best. Here, the standards are higher, and I don't have a past of being a wreck to ruin my reputation or how much my partner respects me. It's an opportunity for a blank slate.

But see that's the issue. The parts pulling me back to the past are the ones that don't mind being stepped on, if there's no responsibility. They don't care about being a better person, they just want to go wherever I'll be taken care of. Where things are miserable but easy.

That's what my nightmare was about. I didn't realize it was a nightmare until I woke up. It was about reverting. I so much wanted to crawl back under that dark blanket where everything's warm and I can't see a thing, I don't have to be smart or good or any of that, I just have to exist and that's enough for the blanket.

But once you've poked your head out to see the world, and the light and the novelty, it's impossible to go back. Even if it's not safe out here, you can't just decide to forget. Even if now there are expectations, now there is right and wrong, now it's not a haze of grey area. Now you have to be a certain kind of person, do certain things and not do other things.

But part of you will wish you could have both, or that you can go back and put your head back under and sleep again, unknowing.

It's a Pandora's Box.

Today the District Manager is coming to see our store. We're working on inventory this week and weekend. My boss is very stressed out – she cried and I gave her a hug today – so I'm almost glad she won't be there. I can handle it.

He's supposed to be pretty cool anyway. I did my phone interview with him and he was very funny in a unique way. Like he would do rude things but he could get away with it. He'd ask me a question and cut me off halfway through it, but cut me off by saying “That's awesome, you've already said all the right answers.”

You know? I thought it was funny. In my brief e-mail correspondences with him he was the same way. Communicative and friendly and businesslike.

I think tomorrow will be fun. Still, I have to make sure my outfit is on point, and my hair and makeup, and that I have a gameplan for the entire time he'll be there. I'm working with a keyholder and a sales associate, so I'm going to put the sales associate on the sales floor and put the keyholder on tasking, and supervise them in between interactions with my DM.

I need to come up with things to keep the sales associate busy in between customers on what will definitely be a low traffic day. I think I'll have my keyholder organize bag tags while the sales associate puts them on the correct items. I'll work on data entry and tag printing when I have time.

I'm going to put the DM on drawers (: