The poison that stays in the mouth

Dear Delyara, I am so deeply furious tonight that my jaw is aching from clenching my teeth. I had to listen to an investor talk down to me for forty minutes today, using this slow, patronizing vocabulary as if my years of frontline experience and independent business management meant absolutely nothing because my corporate structure didn't match his specific textbook template. I sat there with my hands flat on the mahogany table, forcing a calm, neutral expression onto my face while my blood felt like it was literally boiling inside my veins. I am sick of the compliance. I am sick of bowing to mediocrity just because it carries a title or a legacy checkbook. This rage is turning into something bitter and heavy inside me, a dark poison that I have to swallow every single morning just to keep my seat at the table.