Let’s just say Latina identity in business is… layered—and usually brighter and a little bit sparklier than any HR handbook ever planned for. My experience? At 25 years old, when I walked into corporate New Jersey (it was the early nineties), my hair was styled straight and my hoop earrings were sized to be discreet. I looked “safe” enough, whatever that meant. But the whole time, I was quietly wondering what would happen if I let my Latina identity show—even slightly. Read on because I found out.
Latina Identity in Business: The Uniforms and the Unspoken Rules
Corporate had rules. Real rules—and then all the sneaky, “unwritten” ones that basically said, “Don’t bring your whole self to work.” Did I listen? That wasn’t always possible. My loud family stories and my not-quite-from-here vibe—it always slipped out anyway because, well, I had a whole life outside of corporate. Parties, drama, music, a dash of Santería here and there, and noisy Sunday dinners. Nobody I knew at corporate wanted to talk about my coffee-ground readings–you know– the ones I paid for to plan my future. Or how my brother drove us all a little crazy because he was always in some kind of trouble.
When I did bring it up, I always got the same “puzzled” or “that’s crazy” reaction. And that always leads to explaining myself. None of it fit in the fluorescent-lit office. So I kept silent. I learned pretty fast: if I wanted to keep my job (and my peace), I’d leave that side at the door. Often, I would dress in khakis on Fridays, a pressed shirt, and straight hair and only share stories that I knew would not draw attention. Then I would swap back to my “real” wardrobe of leggings, floral tops, and flip-flops the minute I was out the door, and I was free to talk about my real life. It’s important to mention here that drawing attention was in and of itself uncomfortable for me. It didn’t matter what kind of “good” or “bad”; I preferred to be a wallflower and blend in. This discomfort with attention was also a significant aspect of my duality.
I remember one specific event when I didn’t mind this attention. Our department (which was like a diversity cell) decided to celebrate each other’s backgrounds by throwing a potluck lunch; everyone had to bring in something that they ate at home that was part of their culture. My manager brought in roast pork buns and prepared fresh tostones for everyone. I had to borrow a small space in the cafeteria’s kitchen, which obviously drew attention to me, but I did it and don’t remember an inch of discomfort. The details are few, I know, but these memories are so distant.
What I didn’t realize until much later: Latina identity in business meant I got used to wearing different hats—literally and figuratively. At work, I’d play “model employee,” careful with my words, never let the wild in. But get me with my family or other Latinas? Instant switch. Way more fun, a lot more sass, and zero apologies.
But that “hidden” stuff—the weekend wardrobe, the wild family, the drama—it’s who I was at the core. In the beginning, the rest of my identity felt like a mask.
Realizing I Was Two Different People
Unpacking my Latina identity in business got even weirder when I switched over to being a business owner. All the “boss energy” I exhibited was still rooted in my formal, corporate persona—the aspect that mastered the art of blending in rather than standing out, the Latina quietly operating in the background.
It took me ages to notice a shift: every time I met another Latina business owner, the core version of me showed up. Suddenly, I find myself joking in Spanglish, sharing stories about Mami, and not concern myself with appearing “too extra.” But with non-Latina clients? I immediately return to my well-honed, professional voice. Don’t get me wrong, after 30 years in corporate, this professional side is no longer a mask; it’s a giant part of my identity. The point I’m trying to make here is how each exists within me, but separately. Switching hats, flipping the script—over and over. Still happens.
Blending All the Selves
Before I move on, I want to be candid for a moment. Corporate and the people who I worked with gave me insight into the quality of life I actually wanted, one with less chaos and drama. It’s where I learned discipline and it provided me with access to many resources, so it’s where I learned financial responsibility, integrity, self-growth, education, and accountability, and the list goes on.
If I didn’t have the corporate experience, I’d probably still be seeking answers to my life at the bottom of a coffee cup and wondering why the f*ck isn’t it working. So this article isn’t about regret but acknowledgement. Yes, I would have loved to have been myself walking in the door, but that’s not the way it worked in the early nineties.
So now I still wear different hats. I know only one version gets a seat at the table at a time, never both. And this learning? This realization? It’s bigger than the marketing or business finance curve. Pfft. Those are the least of it. The biggest learning curve will be learning how to be 100% me 100% of the time, not splitting in half. I’m still figuring it out.
So what would I tell my younger self with this realization?
That’s a tough question. At 25, I was a ball of putty wherever I went. Modable. Adaptable as I explored who I wanted to be. More importantly, I was who I was – a wallflower, and wallflowers don’t rock the boat. But I must admit that there was some shame, so I’d tell my younger self, “Don’t be ashamed of who you are.”
Now? Now I know that the loud, messy, “too-much” Latina side—that side holds the freedom it takes to be creative and what makes me successful in my craft. It was part her who pushed me out of corporate. Perhaps she is curious to see how far this Latina can go. On a stage? Hitting that six-digit income? Who knows, but she’s here.
Latina identity in business is never simple, never finished, and never boring. And if you’ve wrestled the same beast—or are just at the start—come swap stories with me. Let’s be loud, even if HR wouldn’t approve. Keep peeling back those layers, friend.
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Find more stories at Angela Atelier’s blog or The Gal Project.
