“I eat my lunch at my work desk. My colleague, who sits right next to me, is vegan.
Yesterday, I was having a burger and she said, ‘Stop bringing meat! You’re not alone—some of us feel sick from the smell.’ This morning, I came to work and froze in shock. I saw that HR has…”
…sent out a company-wide email titled “Lunch Etiquette & Shared Workspace Considerations.”
My heart dropped as I clicked it open, expecting to see my name or some direct complaint aimed at me.
Instead, the message was surprisingly neutral. It reminded employees to be mindful of strong-smelling foods,…CONTINUE READING IN BELOW
to use designated eating areas when possible, and to communicate respectfully with colleagues about shared spaces.
No accusations. No disciplinary tone. Just a reminder to be considerate. Still, I felt uneasy. The timing was too close to yesterday’s conversation,
and I couldn’t shake the feeling that my colleague had spoken to HR without telling me.
When she arrived at her desk, I decided not to sit in my anxiety. “Hey,” I said gently,
“was this email because of what happened yesterday?” She looked surprised, then sighed. “No. But… I did talk to HR. Not to report you,” she quickly added, “but to ask
how to handle food sensitivities without making anyone uncomfortable.” She explained that her
reaction the day before hadn’t been fair. The smell of meat genuinely bothered her, but she
regretted how abruptly she had expressed it. She’d been dealing with nausea lately and hadn’t realized how her words might come across.
“I didn’t want to force you to change what you eat,” she said softly. “I just didn’t know how to bring it up without sounding rude.”
Her honesty softened everything in me. I told her I appreciated her explaining instead of letting tension build, and I admitted that I had gone home feeling defensive and confused. We ended up having a long, thoughtful conversation about sharing space—how different diets,
allergies, and sensitivities can collide in open offices. She shared that she had been vegan for medical reasons, not just preference, and some smells triggered
headaches. I shared that my desk was the only quiet space I had to eat during hectic workdays. Once we both laid our worries on the table,
it felt easier to find a middle ground. She agreed to let me know kindly if anything felt overwhelming, and I agreed to eat certain stronger-smelling foods in the break room when possible.
Later that afternoon, something unexpected happened. She placed a small container of homemade vegan cookies on my desk with a note: “For a fresh start.” I smiled, touched by the gesture. We ended up chatting while eating them, and for the first time, we felt less like
coworkers forced to share a space and more like people learning to coexist respectfully.
The HR email, which initially filled me with dread, ended up opening a door instead of closing one. Sometimes misunderstandings happen not because we’re incompatible, but because we forget how different our experiences can be. And sometimes, all it takes to fix that is a little patience, a conversation, and a cookie.
