đź–¤ Wrong Turn (with call center moment + full tone)
Maybe the makeup industry
should have been my safe haven.
A world of tones,
undertones,
shadow,
soft reflection —
where identity lives in color,
and beauty is coded in silence.
But I ended up in call centers.
Reading scripts.
Silencing myself.
Because the Sub-Saharan women —
they hate the makeup world.
And I understand why.
It betrayed them.
Refused to match their skin.
Ignored their depth.
Gave them names like “hazelnut” and “deep espresso” —
but never truth.
So some of them
turned their backs on beauty altogether.
And in their rejection,
they rejected me too.
Because I speak in shades.
I think in cool tones.
I dream in muted golds and bruised olives.
And now—
in this call center cage,
a Sub-Saharan man picks up the line.
His voice smooth. Measured.
He asks,
“Is everything okay?”
And then,
with his learned concern,
he adds:
“You endured a lot.”
He says it like he knows me.
Like it’s his line to say.
Like this call
means something more
than procedure.
But I know what it is.
Another script.
Another smooth performance
from someone who watches
but never sees.