I’m revisiting a post I’ve already written because today it’s landing differently. That’s the beauty of perspective shifts . . . They can keep on shifting. Think about that first time you decided you could have pancakes for dinner. Game changing, right?

My job has become a huge part of my identity. Not because of what I do, but because of how I feel about what I do as well as the people I get to do it with. The company I work for is filled with feminist men. They might not all call themselves that, but that’s only because they’re not as sensitive to things as I can be.

Sometimes feminism means allowing women to eat at the table. Sometimes it’s just assuming she was supposed to sit down when everyone else did.

A while back I had written about a trip to Home Depot with my boys. A father, son and grandfather were shopping near us and the father was impressed with what I had to say about caulking guns. It was a big enough deal that he wanted to acknowledge my expertise. My kids weren’t at all impressed because this is who their Mom is. They aren’t surprised because a capable Mom is normalized in our home.

It’s the same at work. I’m expected to do great things. They believed in me enough to hire me and pay me for the results they expect me to deliver. They never expect me to do less or be less because women are just as capable as men in the work we do. It’s more about our educations and drive and less about gender. They also make space for me as a single mom and allow me to work from home or take time off as I need to. I’m a lucky gal.

The stories we tell ourselves carry greater significance than the expectations of others.

In July of 2016, I had shared to Facebook: You will feel the weight of rejection based on how much you valued the acceptance that you never needed in the first place. You are enough. Just be.

Tonight I had a moment to encourage someone. I reminded her that she’s a boss and a business woman. I said to remember it’s business. We do the right thing, not the easy thing. We make choices that are a win for all sides because that’s leadership. I told her nothing is wrong with her but she can evaluate how accepting someone else’s opinion of her might matter more than her opinion of herself.

I told her she’s a businesswoman and on my way home I had to really wonder if I might be as well. I thought of a conversation six months ago and part of it was funny. It was ridiculous. I laughed off the accusation made against me. It didn’t land that I could identify as who she said she was. That’s not who I am. Except, it really is. (I’ll get to it, promise.)

Who am I?

I had been looking at myself in a limited way and it wasn’t until the last week or so that it really hit me. I had lowered the bar on myself because the story I was telling me was based on the limits of my past. It was based on who I was told I am.

Stay at home mom

Daughter

Wife

Ex-wife

Temporary Employee

Part-Time Employee

Full-Time Employee

Whitening Toothpaste Seller

Licensed Insurance Agent

When it comes to being the Mom I am, I can call myself a Warrior Dragon Slayer. It’s badass and it’s funny. Mainly badass. When I need to boss up for my boys, I remind myself I’m a brave, courageous, heart lead leader, and this means I can do the impossible for them.

In all of these titles, I couldn’t see beyond being small or being silly, or being something difficult. The irony is landing because of a conversation I had in March of this year. I was making a decision on an account at work. I was being firm. It’s what they pay me to do. The woman on the phone was threatening legal action because I was “discriminating against a minority business woman.” The thing is I laughed because she didn’t realize I’m a minority too. She didn’t seem to notice I’m also a woman. I’m black. I’m Thai. I’m a single mother. I struggle as a single Mom living in Los Angeles and I’m working in Finance. It wasn’t until tonight, six months later that I realized, I’m also a business woman.

When this first happened, I explained it to my CFO. I needed the giggle. I thought he could use one too. I think he got the full weight of the irony because I think he had seen me as a business woman, but I didn’t. The men I work with won’t state the obvious. They won’t comment on waiting for me to catch up when we’re walking because they are kind and polite. They won’t make me feel like it’s a burden because they’re decent men. They won’t tell me I’m a business woman because if it didn’t concern me, I was pretty versed in the definition.

In this conversation with this “minority business woman,” I was just an employee. I was just Yessica. I had gotten comfortable with making decisions on accounts and processes, but never considered myself a business woman who was daily committed to the act of transacting business.

Earlier this month we rolled out the Expense Report Policy that I wrote. I had taken the old one, edited out about two pages, and included firmer boundaries. Nothing too heavy for a literary lady like myself. The thing is, these policies had always been there. Based on the authority of the Controller that wrote it years ago, I was given the ability to enforce it when I was handed the policy to go with the expense reports I was already helping categorize. I started to really hammer on the letter of our policy, but it came in stages. I was so unsure of myself the whole time, because it took a lot to realise I could have been standing on my boss’s authority the entire time. Instead I was afraid it wasn’t okay to do my job because people might not like it.

Last month things shifted for me.

In finance, we have to do the close each month. This means we reconcile all of our accounts and spending at the beginning of the month for the month that just ended. It’s busy and hectic and a bad time to ask me for time I don’t have or want to give. In August, the reality of all I wasn’t doing hit hard. We were trying to get things done and the time we had was short. The policy is in place to limit spending but also to help us get things done quickly. We need reports turned in. We need them approved by managers. We need the policies followed.

It was in the process of the final approval of the new policy that we came up with ways to enforce the policy. I realized all of it matters and if it’s going to be handled, it would be me taking control of the situation. I never doubted I could do it. I questioned whether or not I had the authority to. I realised the authority I had was always there, and my fear of bossing up was all in my head. That glass ceiling was a mirror. I saw how I was holding myself back. I saw my fears reflected as things I wasn’t allowed to do.

I decided to stop telling myself stories because the stories were really my nightmares I was repeating from someone else’s imagination.

I am a businesswoman. I am a boss (not anyone’s boss, but project management is a thing, dammit). I am capable. I am a leader. I’m a fucking Warrior Dragon Slayer. I will keep breaking those ceilings and stare at those mirrors long enough to appreciate how beautiful a boss babe can be before I shatter the image I didn’t create.

P.S. The blog posts have dwindled and it’s not intentional but my focus has been shifting to the manuscript I’m finally writing. Soon one of my titles will be author. I can feel it.