I Am Who I Am, Get Used To It! Denise Nichols shares her views on coming out in the workplace.

A profile Milik Robinson

The alarm goes off at eight as it does every weekday morning, slowly but surely Denise inches out of bed fighting the urge to start a battle with the snooze button. After completing her morning routine, she steals her keys and jacket from the coffee table and heads out the door in a race to beat the morning traffic. Arriving at her place of work just before everyone else, she noticeably has the aura of the typical Corporate Working American: tired, aggravated, and anxious to put in her eight hours so she can leave just as fast as she came in. With a deep exhale, she flops her bag down on her desk and collapses into her swivel chair in an effort to recover from the taxing task of clocking in. Wiping the last bit of moist morning dew off her jacket she leans her head back and reflects upon her weekend. As she trails into deep reflection, a smile gradually spreads across her face. In the dead silence before the start of a busy work day, Denise whispers to herself, I love her, I really do. A woman of average height, many curves, and highlighted brown neck-length hair all tied together with a personality as loud and feisty as her bold, brilliantly patterned clothing. To many she appears to be a hardworking woman who likes to balance her gaudy fashion sense, with hovering over her employees as the manager of a local auto dealership. I cant help it. I love that my job isnt a job. I dont do anything, she says. She continues, Two things I love, clothes and talking to people. Thats my job! I know squat about cars to be honest! Thereafter,

an operatic high pitched laugh leaped wildly out of her that embraced the love of her job. From the outside you would not be able to sense that Denise is a gay woman. Denise has always considered herself a fashionista. However as of late, her attire has gotten more daring; her patterns more eccentric, colors more effervescent than ever, and her heels now rivaling that of the Empire State Building. You know when you find yourself, you unlock a door to an unlimited supply of confidence, and you reflect it in many ways without knowing it, mines just happens to be in the way I dress, I guess. She says snickering lightly complimenting the delicate laugh with a shrug. Even if accompanied by a subtle laugh, these words pour so powerfully out of her mouth; they knock her into a brief stint of profound thought. Shifting her eyes to the ceiling fan above, she concludes thats what knowing and being comfortable with who you really are will do to you. For a short moment, she seemed to float back down to Earth before she once again drifted back into a period of reflection. Now noticing the shimmering strip of gold on her velvet pumps, in between lengthened pauses she begins to whisper, Ive come a long wayI know who I amand Im fine with it. Her eyes still fixed to the ground, she mumbles inaudible words to herself characteristic of someone who has experienced a revelation. With an attitude as long as her heels, these persistent lapses into retrospection morphed Denise into a soft spoken, stoic young woman, almost childlike in nature. Recently to the surprise of those around her, Denise came out of the closet. Interestingly the first to know werent even family but coworkers. I came out there cause its a job. There are thousands out there. I can always get a new job, she pauses, but I cant get a new family so to me it was easier to come out there. In recent years, its been common for families to renounce

and disown any members that are gay. In the end her coming out was well received amongst her colleagues, but with her usual snap she counters, Whether they liked it or not it really made me no difference. With every word that seeped out of her mouth, the softer she spoke. She soon resembled that of a woman who had experienced all of lifes wretched heartbreak, scorn, and disparity. Now forcing out mumbled and barely audible sentences, Eventually their comes a time when you really dont give two damns about what people think cause you got to live your life because their gonna live theirs. This quiet, seemingly paranoid woman clasping the contemporary Venetian chair for mere sanity bared a stark contrast in comparison with the one who not even an hour ago was bubbling over with personality and attitude. Amazed by the sudden change in behavior, I briefly tucked away my pad and paper and just sat in complete awe. I cant believe how much time and energy I wasted caring about what people thought of me. Eyes now fixated on an empty pocket of air she continues to speak in a whisper, Im gay, I like women, I wake up, go to work, make my money cause I got bills to pay. I was gay when I started and Im going to be gay if I leave. Im no different from them. We all are just trying to make it. Denise punctuated her views with an absolute bluntness that shocked even me. What are they going to do because their working with a gay person? Stop Working? Im going still make my money and cash my check while theyre in somebodys unemployment line. Denise feels no shame in stating her views on gays being out in the labor force or any other controversial topic for that matter. After all, she was the captain of the debate team in high

school and twice the district champion. Shes a firm a believer that you should tell it the way it is because people are going to see it for what it is regardless. With her attitude back intact, Denise is obviously back on planet Earth and begins to talk less. Off the left on the wooden table her phone vibrates endlessly, shaking her untouched bottle of Diet Coke as if to remind us both that she is a young, working woman. Growing more restless and looking repeatedly over at the epileptic phone, she rushes out some final thoughts, being a working gay person is no different than having a stank coworker, a messy one, a black or white one, hell even one who thinks its okay to wear last seasons leopard print romper. You deal with it because there is money to be made. If you think about it too hard you arent hurting anyone but yourself. Theyre being tacky and making their money, Im just being gay doing the same. Careful not to put a wrinkle in her skirt, Denise slowly gets up smoothing the skirt out with her hands all the while in her own glitzy way, she snags her oversized purse and phone from the table. Turning the small space into her own personal catwalk, she struts out the door, jewelry jangling, heels clapping and gums flapping as she returns an anonymous phone call. The engine of her polished white Chrysler hums as she speeds out the parking lot and onto the next event on her crowded agenda. Though she is gay, Denise is still a woman. A working woman and she wouldnt have you see it any other way.

Works Cited Nichols, Denis. Personal Interview. 2 October 2012.