From the archive | What I learned from crying in the bathroom at work
Dear Cosmos Community,
I can count on my fingers the number of times I've cried at work (it's 3). Crying at work felt like I was failing feminism, or ok, myself. In a way it was harder to admit that I was failing myself. I had all these notions of who I would be in the workplace -- strong, authoritative, liked, funny --- and crying, well, that didn't fit the image at all.I was deeply embarrassed about the reason I cried, for it revealed a part of myself I hadn't dealt with at the time: my relationship with my family.
My manager had given me feedback in a tone that made me burst into tears. I was surprised at the tears, unsure of where they were coming from, until after ten minutes staring at the bathroom stall door, I realized the tone had reminded me of my dad. It was the same tone my dad used when he was annoyed or disappointed in me. And in that moment, the the feelings of being not enough, of disappointing my Asian dad, bubbled up and exploded into crying at work.
My manager was as surprised as I was. We weren't sure how to handle the situation. Should we go to HR? No, HR was bad. Should we try to talk it out? Well, that'd require me to talk about what was coming up. I didn't know if I could do that. If I should do that.I didn't take any days off, or talk to anyone about it.
But that night, I thought about whether I could trust my manager, a white man, Stanford MBA, and whether I'd be letting all women, and myself, down, by being open and honest.The next day, we sat outside, and we talked. I shared my story. I talked about my dad. How the tone made me feel. My voice shook as I asked him not to use that tone with me again. I braced for impact.
My manager looked stricken. He told me he understood, that he was truly sorry, and he shared some of his family story. I didn't cry again, but I almost did, because my story was received with kindness and care, and I found myself wishing I'd been able to show myself the same instead of beating myself up for crying at work.I didn't consider that moment as "advocating for myself" at the time because I'd always associated "advocating" with getting a promotion or pay raise. But looking back, I see that sharing my honest story was advocating for myself. And it changed my relationship with my manager for the better.
Working through the differences between me and my manager's worlds and perspectives wasn't always easy, but when I had to ask for a mental health leave from work a year later, I wasn't afraid to be honest with my manager. And he turned out to be my biggest advocate for taking that time off.I'm sharing all this because I want to help you advocate for yourself in your workplace.I want you to see that telling your story and being authentic to yourself is a form of advocacy in the workplace. But I know it's hard and weird and brings up difficult things!!!!!!!!
We have 5 spots left for Asian Women Advocating in the Workplace on Fri Aug 27, and you can RSVP here. My inbox is open if you have any questions or stories you want to share.
To crying in the bathroom without shame,
Karen
Culture Corner
What would it look like to forge a path of our own, free from the white gaze, fetishization, and colonialism? What would it feel like to allow ourselves to be seen as exactly who we are, without the pressure to conform to the dominant idea?
These are questions we’re still grappling with, that we might be grappling with forever. But it felt like time to introduce some new images into the idea of the "Asian American woman"
With an all Asian American woman production tea, we attempted to answer these questions, embodying imagination, freedom, and liberation. We don't capture the full diversity of the Asian women community here. But we want to start the conversation -- what could your beautiful, imaginative liberation look like?