#CelebrateingtheRainbow at the workplace – share your stories of Pride!
Consulting Ms. Kondo one last time, I asked myself which objects did not spark joy in me. Alas, everything in my house sparked joy: my heaving closet, my tattered books, my chipped teacup.
A few months into lockdown, I decided to do a ‘Marie Kondo’ and reclaim my life. I looked around my home and decided that clothing and books were my major problem. (I didn’t even consider the vast collection of handbags, footwear, and knick-knacks.)
Ms. Kondo suggests going about organizing by category and, as per her instructions, I decided to tackle my closets first. I could almost hear the happy sigh from wardrobe number one. It was liberation time for those stretched hangers which regained their original shape as soon as I removed all the clothes and threw them onto the bed.
Looking at the mountain of clothes, I was aghast. I rifled through the ‘all too small’ wardrobe. How on earth had I managed to fit all those clothes in there? Squaring my shoulders, I sorted the clothing into three neat piles. Into the first pile went the clothes that I fitted into – in another lifetime. Catching my reflection in the mirror, I knew that I would have to wait for my re-birth to fit back into them.
The second pile was for clothes that I had worn to my workplace before work-from-home began, and the third was for brand-new items, some with their tags still attached. I stood there, shamefaced. Those ‘end-of-season sales’ must have been planned for indiscriminate buyers like me.
Sticking to my resolve, I played by Kondo’s rules and began discarding, starting with the first pile. I held each garment up against myself, thanked it sincerely for having served its purpose, and considered whether or not it ‘sparked joy’ within me.
At the end of one hour, the first pile remained as it was, and I was busy reliving my college years, my girls’ days out with friends, and my graduation dress. The memories were rich and strong. Moreover, I had begun to think that my new exercise and diet plan might just work.
Tackling the last pile, I wondered whether I could take any of them back to the store once lockdown was lifted. Examining my reflection as I held them up, I came to the conclusion that I had made some good purchases and patted myself on the back for being an economical buyer.
By the end of the day, the clothes were back where they belonged, except for a measly pair of leggings and a couple of shirts. I broke out in a cold sweat at the idea of attacking the cupboard that held my collection of saris. Buyer’s remorse was for the faint-hearted, I decided, and, settling down to watch a Netflix, promised myself that I would have better luck with books.
I am proud and possessive of my book collection. Any genre is my kind and I like to think I have eclectic taste. Having never been successful at discarding books, I needed all my resolve. After lunch, I started with those books which had crackling pages, yellowed with age. Dusk found me sitting in front of the first shelf leafing through my father’s collection of Reader’s Digest, lost in some forgotten gems. I gave up and treated myself to ice cream.
Consulting Ms. Kondo one last time, I asked myself which objects did not spark joy in me. Alas, everything in my house sparked joy: my heaving closet, my tattered books, my chipped teacup. It seems that I am not yet ready for the world of KonMari.
Published here first.
Image source: Oksana Krasiuk Free for Canva Pro
Chandrika R Krishnan, a Bengaluru-based writer and educationist likes all things beginning with a ‘T’ - talking, teaching, tales and tea. Her 300-odd published articles, poems and stories are eclectic and mostly experiential and read more...
Women's Web is an open platform that publishes a diversity of views, individual posts do not necessarily represent the platform's views and opinions at all times.
Stay updated with our Weekly Newsletter or Daily Summary - or both!
Can you believe this bloke compelled me to wear only saris - full time at home- till the eighth month of my pregnancy?! The excessive heat coupled with humidity made my life miserable.
Recently when I browsed an interesting post by a fellow author on this very forum I had a sense of déjà vu. She describes the absolutely unnecessary hullabaloo over ladies donning nighties and /or dupatta –less suits.
I wish to narrate how I was in dire straits so far wearing a ‘nightie’ was concerned.
I lived in my ultra orthodox sasural under constant surveillance of two moral guardians (read Taliban) in the shape of the husband’s mom and dad. The mom was unschooled and dim-witted while the dad was a medical practitioner. But he out-Heroded the Herod in orthodoxy.
My supervisor introduced me as a valuable member of the team, emphasizing my skills and contributions rather than focusing on my gender identity. This simple act set the tone for my experience in the workplace.
As a transwoman navigating the corporate world, I had encountered my fair share of discrimination and challenges. Transitioning without the support of my parents and having limited friendships in my personal life made the journey difficult and lonely. However, when I stepped into the office, something remarkable happened, I left behind the stress and negativity, embracing a space where I could truly be myself.
Joining the marketing team as a graphic designer, I was initially apprehensive about how my colleagues would react to my gender identity. But to my surprise, the atmosphere was welcoming and respectful from day one. My supervisor, Sarah, introduced me as a valuable member of the team, emphasizing my skills and contributions rather than focusing on my gender identity. This simple act set the tone for my experience in the workplace.
As I settled into my role, I discovered that my colleagues went out of their way to make me feel comfortable and included. They consistently used my correct name and pronouns, creating an environment where I could be authentically me. Being an introvert, making friends wasn’t always easy for me, but within this workplace, I found a supportive community that embraced me for who I truly am. The workplace became a haven where I could escape the stresses of my personal life and focus on my professional growth.
Please enter your email address