The green-patterned, dark blue chairs were surprisingly plush for a college campus. I sat surrounded by smart, young Muslim-American professionals and law students after wrapping up a panel discussion on accessibility.

We were swapping stories about growing up as immigrants in the United States, family histories, and journeys navigating bureaucracies and institutions in which our mold stood out. One woman of South Asian descent piped up, “I’m always told to be less of myself. My mom told me I should only say things people will like! ‘Don’t tell people what they don’t want to hear,’ people have advised me. But I have a hard time – I just can’t do that. I can’t fake liking things I don’t really like.”

These words sounded all too familiar to me. I flashed back to a young professional me, sitting on a stiff but beautiful sofa in the office of one of my former bosses. I had just asked him for any advice as I moved on to another assignment, excited about my next adventure.

His feedback shocked me. “You need to work on doing a better job fitting in – you know – inside our community.”

I thought quickly – he must be talking about the way I look…

“Yes, I’m very Muslim, aren’t I?” I responded agreeably, thinking he was talking about all the alcohol-rich social hours I had avoided, and the assumptions about my sociability that had perhaps been made because of my glaring hijabi attire.

“Yeah, and you know, you’re also blind – and you don’t always see facial expressions and body language. So you need to do more to just fit in,” he concluded, leaving me wondering about how I should work on being less blind and less Muslim!

Obviously, I’ve made a conscious choice since that conversation nearly a decade ago not to be less of either, but I’ve definitely tried to do some things differently along the way. 

As I sat listening to a younger colleague entering professional life sharing similar sentiments, I thought about what I had lived, the missteps I had made, the hits I had taken, and what she should consider.

I smiled at her. “If you want to know what not to do, watch me and learn! I can’t fake it either!”

“Yeah,” she agreed, “I’m just not good at faking who I am and hiding my opinions.”

For her, me, and every other sassy woman who has been confounded by the challenge of our own directness, first know that you’re not alone. Many of us who are intelligent, direct, and unapologetic about our identities have been told we should be quieter, meeker, and less of ourselves. If we can’t do that, what should we do? I confess that some of what I’ll share is what I myself struggle to do in the moment, still work to emulate, and have not perfected in myself. So let’s try together!

1. Be comfortable in your own skin. This is the first rule of thumb. If you don’t like you, no one else will. That doesn’t mean we don’t have things to work on – we all do. But I can’t change being blind, and it has been an absolute blessing! It has made me so much more empathetic, productive, outgoing, and proactive. I wouldn’t change my faith or what I wear. It’s a source of pride in my identity – not a mark of suppression or repression. Wearing what I do is a conscious choice I make every day to remind myself of my moral compass; it reminds me of what not to do because I don’t want to denigrate myself or others. My faith teaches me about compassion and respect for the human dignity of everyone. So I’m going to take pride in standing out, in being different, in wearing something different, and by doing so, embracing and making space for others who are different too.

2. Assume positive intent. This rule is one I’m actively working on, especially as a permanently recovering lawyer! Not everything is a conspiracy against you, and not everyone is trying to intentionally exclude, disrespect, or discriminate against you! Someone wisely told me, “Never assume malice where you can substitute stupidity instead.” I’m not saying stupidity is good. Intentions don’t matter; impact does, and the impact of stupidity and malice can sometimes be the same. But stupidity allows us to be more forgiving of what people do or say because they haven’t figured out how to be inclusive yet.

My mother-in-law is a great example: she once said of me and my family, “We have nothing in common with those people.” My mother-in-law is a very sweet homebody who wouldn’t want to harm a fly, and is a God-loving, aging, white, Christian woman who rarely leaves her hometown of less than two square miles. One day, she told my husband, “I saw a Muslim woman in a grocery store the other day. She was wearing a hijab. I smiled at her.” This was a very big step for my mother-in-law, who is also exceedingly introverted and shy. I feel like I should also clarify that I am not calling my mother-in-law stupid; it took her time to warm up to a group of people about whom she has only ever seen and heard negative things. She should absolutely be proud of stretching herself socially and emotionally to reach a hand out to a complete stranger, and I’m proud of her too!

So, if people exclude because they feel uncomfortable, don’t know if we would want to come to the social hours, and haven’t thought about how to design those social hours to be more inclusive of our interests and differences, don’t know how they should include us, we’ve got to teach them and give them grace. Sometimes, a lot of grace…. I can’t tell you how long it takes to have strategic patience; I can only say you (and I) have got to have it!

3. Take care of you, then come back with grit. Sometimes, you get really fatigued by being the explainer-in-chief, ever-patient, giving grace, dealing with macro- and micro-aggressions. I’m fatigued often. So go back to those you love, and who love and understand you. Draw strength, resilience, and inspiration from them – your safe spaces, your cocoons. Then re-emerge, ready with grit! Resilience is vital in whatever our business is. My husband and I were both initially hurt by what my mother-in-law had unintentionally said about me and my family. We recoiled for a period. Then we re-engaged; nearly two years after we were married, my parents and my husband’s one set of parents (he has three – I can explain later) met for the first time. Now, my mother-in-law actually looks forward to visiting with my parents again, even suggesting that if they’re in the area, it would be great to meet up again sometime! 

4. Don’t change what your message is, but maybe how you say it. You’ll be confronted with a lot of naysayers and well-intentioned advisors who will tell you to be less of you. Instead, try every day to be the best of you. And that doesn’t mean faking it or hiding your opinions. It might mean modulating how you express the opinion or information so that the matter can be better received.

This is where I think I fail and learn constantly. (Failing is okay – as long as we learn!). Conventional wisdom had taught me I should present unsavory information with the compliment sandwich — good, negative, good. Now I’ve learned that, particularly as women, we tend to overexplain, and perhaps just presenting unsavory information more directly is okay as long as we also present how we might collaborate to remedy the unsavoriness. So we’re partners, not detractors.

5. Don’t let your emotions control your immediate reactions. People will say and do irksome things, and I will want to fire off an irate response. And sometimes that response may well be warranted. But will it accomplish more than just the immediate gratification of having said something back? When someone says, “Tell people what they would like to hear,” the subtext is, “Don’t tell people what they don’t want to hear.” Neither maxim is right. Rather, don’t emotionally tell people what you really want them to hear! And sometimes, I really, really want them to hear it! But telling them what I really think in their face is actually detrimental to me and my true objective – it makes them mad at me, unwilling to accept my message, and entrenched in doing exactly the opposite of what I’d have them do.

Now, have I lived this final rule well? Not always. My husband might say not even often. But we live and learn…. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve written an email, almost fired it off, and then (thankfully) not hit “send!” That strategy is a good one; write whatever you want, just don’t send it.

I promise you this; I won’t get what I’m telling you right myself. In the moment, applying these simple rules is actually really hard stuff. I own that fault. But let’s begin where we started – in trying together. 

Have you used any of the strategies listed above? What are your go-to strategies? What have been your challenges in being you? How have you both been authentic and gracious? What do you wish you could have done differently? I’d love to learn from you! Please consider sharing your story with me in the comments and on my social media, and if you are comfortable with others learning from you, I’d be glad to share your story with other readers.

Talk to you next week!