During his six years at the company, Lin Zhi had only asked for leave a handful of times.
She is familiar with every process of the OA system, and also understands the unspoken rules of the workplace: you need a reason for taking leave, and the reason should preferably be as short as an account that does not require explanation.
Until she was thirty-two years old, she spent ten minutes deleting, deleting, and modifying the "Reason" column in the OA system.
In the end, I only filled in four words: personal reasons.
That was her first time going to the 8th floor of Union Medical College Hospital.
The corridor was filled with women like her, and they all had a tacit agreement not to spy on each other, as if they existed in an anonymous system.
When the B-ultrasound probe was placed on her lower abdomen, she looked at the gray shadow on the screen and suddenly realized: from this moment on, her body no longer belonged to her alone, but was a project waiting to be optimized.
Her husband is very kind and considerate. He will send her a WeChat message after she finishes the examination: "Thank you for your hard work. What do you want to eat tonight? I'll do it."
My colleagues are friendly, my boss values me very much, and my life is as standard as a textbook.
Everyone thought she had it all.
Only she knows that some words are like fish bones, which cannot be swallowed or spit out.
She still clocks in on time every day, changes plans, holds meetings, neatly folds her unspoken emotions and locks them in a drawer that cannot be opened.
Until one day, she discovered that her mother's words "I also want to do something of my own" had traveled through decades and landed gently on her shoulders.
Purpose: In an era where "you can choose", write about the hidden pain of women who "cannot choose"