Messy Minded Momma

Daily writing prompt

Q: Which animal would you compare yourself to and why?

A: Gazelle

This question has come up for me before, though not in the casual, chatting-with-friends kind of way. For reasons unknown, it came up in the workplace.

When I started my career at 24, I was the youngest person in the office and often felt like I couldn’t keep up with conversations about financial portfolios. Not only did I not understand them, I had very little interest in them. As an Administrative Assistant, my “stock market” consisted of calendars, expense reports, and travel arrangements. I didn’t have time to focus on asset classes and mutual funds.

And when the conversation shifted away from work, it didn’t get much easier. Many of my coworkers were older, married, and raising children, swapping stories about school pickups, family vacations, and weekend soccer games. I was single, without children, and living a very different life at the time. I didn’t really fit into those conversations either.

More often than not, I felt like I was floating somewhere between both worlds, not quite part of either one.

Because of my social anxiety, I often avoided the early morning chatter in the office kitchen. At lunch, I would escape to the food court with a book, disappearing into its pages to ensure I wouldn’t be bothered by a colleague.

But one evening, during a mandatory Thursday night work social, the tall, muscular, kind blond man in the office asked a question over bourbon that immediately caught my attention. “Which animal would you compare yourself to?”

Finally, a conversation I could participate in.

A few drinks had softened the distress of being around coworkers after hours, and as I listened to the unimpressive answers around the table—bear, lion, dog, owl, shark—my anticipatory anxiety started picking up speed.

A gazelle was the first animal that popped into my head, so I began rehearsing my answer silently, wanting to showcase my unique personality while also sounding intelligent.

Graceful. Elegant. Alert. The adjectives were circling my brain. I’ve got this, I thought. My time to shine. Then the question came to me. “So,” he said, “which animal would you be?”

With all the confidence in the world, I straightened my posture, took a small sip of my drink, and answered:

“A… Gisele.”

Not gazelle.

Gisele.

Before I could correct myself or explain, I felt it happening.

My face flushed.

My neck turned red.

My heart started racing.

A knot formed in my stomach.

Thanks, dyslexia. Perfect timing.

To make matters worse, I was wearing a bright orange blazer that night. There was absolutely no fading into the background. I might as well have been wearing reflective safety gear. My visibility was front and center.

Later that night I phoned my sister and told her what happened. We laughed until we cried. “There goes Gisele the Gazelle in her bright orange blazer,” we joked.

And honestly, it’s still funny to this day. But in that moment, I couldn’t laugh. I didn’t feel graceful. I felt exposed. All I wanted to do was sprint across the savanna, fold my legs beneath me in the grass, and disappear.

These days, I wouldn’t compare myself to a gazelle anymore. If anything, I’m probably more like a turtle.

Slow to warm up.

Careful with my surroundings.

Ready to disappear into my shell when things get awkward.

But thanks to that night, my sister and I will forever know the truth. Somewhere out there, in a bright orange blazer…Gisele the Gazelle is still living her best life.