Dab of Caramel

You'd think I'd be used to this by now. Being one of the few black girls in a predominately white establishment. But I'm beginning to wonder if it's ever something you can get used to. Is it something that I'll ever not notice? This time around it's different though. This time around, I actually WANT to be the singular black girl.

I've come into a space in my life where I own my color. I think this new found confidence among a sea of whites has everything to do with not only age/maturity, but my time at Essence Magazine. That place has truly shaped how I feel about myself in corporate America. I wrote about this yesterday in my journal, but I want to share here that before Essence, I tried to blend in with the whites. I didn't want to wear my hair natural, I would never try to dress different and I surely didn't want people to know too much about my background. Today, I wear my hair naturally, my Essence Magazine is face side up on my desk (I work in an open room with a 40-ish white man and a 40-ish Hawaiian woman) and my fashion sense is even more bold and tuned than ever. I like not caring. It's freeing. I can see the coordinator throwing glances at my twist out, but instead of smooshing the volume down, I stand taller. It's interesting this feeling I have. I love being caramel me even amongst the vanilla clouds.