I wrote this a year and a half ago, when I was still in professional school. I never published it. These feelings that were left in a draft post came back today through another experience. So, today is the day I hit the publish button.
By: Gabriela Yareliz
Something I have always disliked is when I walk into a room and people look at me and think–oh, she is tiny, nice, cute (take your pick), and they are thinking this with the intention of taking advantage of me. They have their own little agendas. They have plans for me. Little do they know, I have plans for myself and plans for them if they cross mine.
I mean, cute is nice, but not the impression you want to give off when you are there to fight for something or persuade.
I walk in trying to behave as an adult and show I am a professional, and I get these looks as if I were wearing a Mickey Mouse ears and eating cotton candy.
I went in to fight something the other day, and the person opposite of me had a look; it was one of those looks that says: “Ha. I am gonna put this one in my pocket and eat her alive.” I was not amused.
It was quite the adversarial process (as one could reasonably assume it would be, with an extra pinch of obnoxiousness). That day, I did my thing. I know that when I left, I left the person in a daze. I wasn’t what the person had expected.
I found out I won my little battle.
I guess, there may not come a day when I can control how people underestimate me or what they think of me. What I can control is the impression I leave with them. I will keep surprising them.