Last week I wore all black

I was tired from taking people’s BS

This week I wore white

And the burden was much less

You know,

Black absorbs

And white reflects.

---

I sat in the office with my supervisor and the new COO. Changes were being put into place and many people were unhappy. I didn’t notice much.

The meeting was scheduled out of respect, but felt like an attempt to head off further discontent. None was with me.

Staff were being rearranged. I would report to someone new. I sat and stared. The presenter was nervous. He was afraid of a poor response.

He repeatedly excused himself from blame. People only do that when they expect you to get upset.

It’s risky to say anything to someone who expects the worst. You may just become their proof.

“Who will I go to about scheduling changes?”

I was calm. I just wanted orientation.

Things got away from me immediately. The trap doors over his ear holes audibly slammed shut. In seconds, with a shaky hand he pointed his laser beam of ‘expected revolt’ directly at my unibrow while his eyes danced with the specs of dust floating in the rays of sunlight around the room.

His tone continued to suggest that I needed to be placated. There was nothing to placate. I just wanted to know what I was expected to do.

He projected his fears onto me and I was absorbing the blows.

I looked desperately at my supervisor, hoping for free translation services. It didn’t seem to work.

The meeting ended. I felt my brow cramping in a furrowed position. My head tilted like that of a curious dog. How did I become the problem child so fast?

I should have known. I was wearing black. Carrying, absorbing, taking. Sitting in his energy field, I looked exactly like what he expected. Fear covers your eyes and ears.

The week went on like this. People projecting their own fears and assumptions onto me.

“Oh you don’t have to apologize for what you do”

When merely, I was just explaining part of me so that someone could actually know me better. Maybe be curious and try to understand. I finally exist without apology, but I still don’t know how to take up space. I went on to explain my explanation.

“Are you getting frustrated?”

No, I’m not frustrated. I just don’t know where I am.

I was anything they wanted to see.

The next week went better. I wore white.

I walked to the front office. A patient. Their child. Their wife. The child looked at me and reached out. Something she never does with strangers, or even some she knows.

Safety.

Would you be afraid of your own reflection?

Finally.

I was a mirror again.