Tales We All Carry — 13 Years, 4 Job Titles, 1 Blouse Strap
- Chesta Pali
- Jul 18
- 2 min read
Updated: Jul 19
We all start the same, don’t we?
Study hard. Get a job. Be “successful.”
(Except some girls — who choose the lifelong internship called Housewife. No salary. No weekends off. 5 stars on Google, though.)
And then you get that first job.
You enter the corporate world like a freshly ironed shirt — crisp, hopeful, and clueless about how fast that starch will fade.
You give your best — smile at meetings, stay late, skip birthdays, anniversaries, and your own kidney stone surgery — because "I love my work."
And then, slowly...
You realise the HR thinks your promotion is because of your face, not your Excel sheet.
And if you're not promoted?
Same face. Wrong lighting.
Apparently, when your male colleague forward mails the client’s deck with “Please find attached,” he gets applauded as “solution-driven.”
Meanwhile, you’re doing the job of a data entry operator, underwriter, marketing manager, and part-time therapist for your boss.
And still, someone finds the time to say:
“Your blouse strap is showing.”
Well, maybe it’s holding up all the weight of your unacknowledged contribution. Ever thought of that?
13 years in, I realised — this was a scam.
A very corporate-looking, salary-slipping, ID-card-hanging scam.
I didn’t hate the work.
In fact, I loved it.
The thrill of winning a client, solving chaos, becoming someone’s go-to —
I even made clients my friends. Real ones. Who called on my birthday. Who said they missed me.
But I hated the noise.
The politics. The performative culture. The “let’s-just-push-it-till-she-quits” vibe.
The realisation that I wasn’t building something — I was surviving it.
And then one fine day, mid-email, I just stopped.
No grand exit speech. No LinkedIn goodbye with 15 hashtags.
Just a deep breath. And a deeper knowing:
“I want my life back.”
The story doesn’t end here.
I’m still writing it — with less coffee and more clarity.
I carry the tales of clients, colleagues, and chaos — and I leave behind only one thing:
The blouse strap.
Let them figure it out.
I haven’t given many job interviews, but in the few I have attended, I was left baffled. Almost every interviewer asked about my marriage plans—when I intend to get married, and when I plan to have children. These questions weren’t limited to interviews. Even during annual and half-yearly reviews, the same personal questions came up.
What disappoints me the most is that, instead of focusing on professional growth—what skills I should improve, how I can grow in my role—I often receive unsolicited lectures about clothing choices and my personal life. Sadly, many of these comments come from women themselves, often under the guise of tradition and morality.
It’s disheartening to see professional reviews being used as platforms to judge rather…
"Couldn’t agree more! The corporate world can be brutal, especially for women. It’s time to prioritize our well-being and redefine what success means. Thanks for sharing your story and inspiring others to take control of their lives 💪🏼💫"
Witty and Wow—this reads like a cathartic truth‑serum shot for every cubicle survivor! 👏
From the ‘freshly‑ironed shirt’ optimism to the legendary blouse‑strap mic drop, you nailed the bittersweet comedy of corporate life. Here’s to swapping politics for purpose and coffee‑fuelled all‑nighters for clarity‑filled mornings. Can’t wait to read the next chapter—you’ve already turned resignation into renaissance.