Making of A Diva

I’ve been sitting here thinking a lot about things lately.  My latest revaluation came yesterday as I’m sitting here scratching my scalp and shedding more than usual.  The head starts to feel weird when the first stages of hair loss start.

So a few years back I worked at a company and everyone there was pretty full of themselves.  Not to say that’s a bad thing..in a competitive industry you have to be.  The environment was such that if you made a mistake your competencies were questioned.  Again, not a bad thing when you are writing code and it HAS to be perfect.  The problem is other departments that you can’t be precise with were still treated like the programmers.  Marketing is a little different than writing lines of code.  Different skill set and social set.  Anyway.  The marketing department hired a woman who had a fabulous resume.  She was a little odd…in a quarky way and wasn’t readily accepted by the group.  People would comment on “why does she always wear that stupid hat” or “why doesn’t she do something with that mop on top of her head” or “what the hell is she wearing today?”  She seemed to always have a story that everyone took as excuses and accused her of just being lazy and riding the system.   She would sometimes not necessarily tell the truth on things that she did or didn’t.  Needless to say she didn’t last very long.

What made me think of her?  Well…she was a cancer survivor and was trying to get back into the work force after her treatment.  She wore hats because her hair never quite fully grew back and she had sort of become accustomed to wearing them..and she was self conscience about her hair…these hats were her signature now.  The clothes she wore were her. It was her confidence and she felt comfortable and good in them.  The stories…well that was the lack of confidence and going on the defensive because every decision made was challenged by someone.  She was trying to establish her credibility…not brag.  And her riding the system….well chemo messes with your brain and you fog out at times…you want so badly to have the mind and thought process you had BC (before chemo). Sometimes you just can’t think as quickly as you would like.

My whole point to this is I know I had always stated how tolerant I was of others and understood people.  Sometimes you think you understand when really you have no clue.  Everyone has a story.  And just because you can do something doesn’t mean everyone else can.

The next time you judge that overweight woman at the grocery store in spandex think about what her story might really be.  Or the overly skinny guy standing in line in front of you.  What is his real story…