"Thank you so much for your inspirational last post. Can you tell me what freelancing sites you use? Any tips you have for a creative dreamer like me would be greatly appreciated! You have lit a fire in me to pursue what really makes me happy. xo Aubree"
It was time for me to face the facts: the closest I had ever come to upward mobility as a black girl in fashion, was when my boss asked me to move my desk away from the bathroom and towards the break room- a move that I now suspect was more out of convenience than out of a spirit of employee recognition. I just didn't get it. I jumped out of bed at the crack of dawn every morning. I dressed in clothes I meticulously picked out the night before to impress the people that already expected me to kiss the supposedly holy ground they walked on. Yes, they had made it. And me? If there was a position open for a professional doormat, I would have been a sure pick. The irony of being the unspoken office doormat is that no amount of butt kissing is going to make anyone respect you. It was on the verge of a near panic attack that I realized- this shit is phony.
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