Fear Is a Bad Reason to Stay

From time to time, I meet a woman who is working in a toxic work environment.

As she talks, a familiar picture begins to form: a boss who regularly and publicly shouts at her; colleagues who don’t collaborate but instead work around each other, compete, or quietly undermine.
Manipulative behaviours that exclude her from key meetings where insight is shared and influence is built. Often this is accompanied by a change in working conditions or role remit, framed as "doing our best to keep you in a challenging time", or not even bothering to go that far with the framing at all. Then there are the (not so) "micro" aggressions that chip away at her sense of self: being spoken over, having her ideas ignored as if they were never said at all, or taking her slides to present without any thought to giving appropriate credit.

Much of this happens in front of others. And when it does, it becomes normalised. Others begin to copy the behaviour. The culture spreads.

So why doesn’t she just walk out?

It's not easily. There’s the mortgage to pay, the school fees, the family who rely on her income. There’s the operation she’s been waiting months for, and the fear that taking more time off or changing jobs will make complicate things even further. There’s a deep sense of responsibility; not wanting to let the side down, not wanting to be seen as the problem, not wanting to disappoint everyone else.

Then there’s the most corrosive fear of all: the belief that there is nothing else out there. That this job, this environment, is all she’s capable of now. Her confidence has shrunk so low she can’t see a way out. She tells herself she can only do this work — and not even that very well anymore. Any day now, she might get found out. So she stays. She endures. She tells herself: just one more year.

By the time she arrives in my world, she is often a shadow of the woman she once was. Her confidence is gone. Her belief in her own capability is fractured. She doesn’t trust herself anymore and yet, paradoxically, she knows she needs to leave. She needs to apply for another role, move teams, or find a way out.

Let's be clear. What she has experienced is psychologically damaging.

I know this, because I was one of those women.

When Charm Turns Into Control

Earlier in my career, I worked for a man who was charming at the outset. When he moved into a CEO role elsewhere, he encouraged me to follow him and lead one of the functions under his management.

At first, everything seemed positive. Then the charm shifted into manipulation.

A remote role quietly turned into an expectation to be in the office three days a week. A two hour commute each way at best. My autonomy began to shrink.

I was publicly humiliated in a leadership meeting because I hadn’t constructed a presentation in his preferred style. I had used my own voice and he tore me down for it. Colleagues didn't back me up. He insinuated that I was incompetent. He fueled rumours. He took the guys out to a cheap burger joint where the waitresses wore shorts and tiny orange aprons and forgot to invite me, thinking that it wasn't my thing. Yes, in fact, it wasn't. Funny, that.

By the time I left that organisation, my confidence was in pieces. I was pregnant. When my daughter was born, there was no card. No congratulations. No acknowledgement at all.

Eight weeks later, he turned up unannounced at my house and served me notice while I was holding my newborn in my arms. An aquisition and a restructuring. Sorry about that.

It was an illegal move that HR failed to challenge or justify. I had two small children under the age of four. No income and the small compensation was not enough to carry me through a normal maternity leave. I had no energy, no confidence, and no internal capacity left to take him to court.

Digging A Way Out

What followed required me to dig myself out of a hole that had been created by the environment I had been in. I had to rebuild my confidence and I had to do it quickly. I needed to generate income to support my family.

Somewhere I found the resourcefulness within me because I had to. I ran on grit, determination, and adrenaline. It worked. I was up and earning a decent income within a few months.

But I would not recommend that approach to anyone who comes to me for help now. White-knuckling your way through trauma is not healing. And it’s not sustainable.

A Different Way Forward

My approach today is very different.

It is about support. Being surrounded by people who truly see you — people who have been through something similar, or who are trained to support you properly.

Learning how to ask for help. Learning a better, more sustainable way to work, to set boundaries and to know when it is indeed time to call it quits and move on .

You need to be seen for who you really are: a competent, intelligent, resourceful woman who has lost confidence through completely understandable circumstances.

You WILL return to the person you were before all of this happened.

Because make no mistake, when a workplace becomes toxic, it is a relationship. And leaving a toxic relationship takes effort, courage, and a great deal of support and care.

If This Feels Familiar

If you’re reading this with a twinge of recognition — a quiet “this sounds like me” — please know this:

You are not alone. There is a way through.

There is a programme, a method and a path that takes you from where you are now to freedom — to living and working in alignment with your values, your strengths and your authentic self, with leadership approaches that are effective so you can show up and have impact without sacrificing yourself in the process.

If you’re interested, join me on the path through this. Details are here: https://alignchangethrive.com/services/align-change-thrive

And if you need deeper therapeutic support, I work with exceptional psychotherapy collaborators who can help you through the early stages of rebuilding confidence after psychological harm.

Either way, there is a way forward.

Fear is a bad reason to stay.

With much love.