I have spent most of the morning stressing (more like agonizing) about what to wear. There are only a few things that could possibly cause this state of mind and only one of those things which can enforce it with the gravity that I feel and the panic that I am tempted to give into. I have a job interview today. At Columbia Helicopters. I made it through their phone interview talking for nearly 20 minutes about why I got fired, what one thing I would change if I could, what I think I could have done better etc. It was intense, but I made it. And I did it without airing all of HAI’s dirty laundry and taking jabs at their ethics, their management decisions, or the quality of the working environment (despite my interviewer baiting me in that direction). I have a good feeling about this company and this coming interview.

BUT…what do I wear!? Being a woman in an industry interview turns all the rules that I was taught about interview dress code on their head. I have worn jeans and a nice shirt and felt incredibly over-dressed simply because my shirt was “too feminine” and feminine equals fancy. And fancy equals superfluous. And superfluous means not necessary, not hard working, not “mechanic” and so on. At HAI, I strived to hide my femininity because it was always getting in the way of people believing that I could do the job. If you want to be seen as competent, it is so much easier if everyone just forgets that you’re a woman and accepts you as one of the guys. The way you dress is the easiest way to sabotage your competency before you do anything.

Eventually, sometime after I realized that they were going to fire me if I did not quit but before HAI actually pulled the trigger (that’s some 5 months of a gap), I stopped caring. I realized that I was never going to be who they wanted me to be. I was never going to be masculine enough. My body is part of my identity that I can either hack away at or accept; but it cannot be quietly changed or molded to meet arbitrary expectations. It is decidedly feminine. With or without my permission. And even though I gave up on meeting their expectations, I resented myself for not being able to do better. Not being able to change who I was felt like a failure. (I realize now that it was grace disguised and extended to my future self.) I did not take that failure gracefully. Of all of the half truths and blatant lies that I internalized while there, this one has been the hardest to get a handle on and look in the eye.

The truth is: if what I wear to my interview is professional and modest but too unmasculine, too much an indicator that I will never be one of the boys, too burgundy, too brightly colored…then I don’t want the job. I used to. I used to want the acceptance of success bad enough. But I have tried that road and it costs too much. I was one step away from not recognizing who I was when I looked in the mirror. I am done with that now. I am going to let my masculine and feminine traits fall where they may naturally and focus all of my attention on learning the trade. If that is not enough for a company then I do not agree with their definition of success and I will be ok with failing.