It's been happening, lately.
I tend to know when it's going to happen, but each time, I battle desperately to avoid the tears. I try my hardest to shove the emotions down, ignore it, do something else. But, I can't put it off forever. And, so, usually, in the middle of someone asking me how my day is going, I start to cry.
And I'm not a pretty crier. I tend to bawl. I create mucus. I have difficulty breathing. If I'm lucky, I can stifle the sobs. My face turns red. And, as I try to talk, it only gets worse.
The strange thing, however, about working for a feminist organization is that I'm not ostracized for this. Rather than being made to feel weak and incapable, I'm met with validation and understanding. And, I'm not even afraid that people are gossiping about my meltdowns behind my back.
If I had one hope for those who are employed, it would be to have the opportunity to cry at work without feeling judged. I think that is truly the measure of a workplace.