Working in an all-women team under a female supervisor sounded empowering on paper, but in reality, it was anything but. I want to share my experience, not because it’s easy to relive, but because I know many others have faced similar situations-and you deserve to know you’re not alone.
From day one, the environment felt off. My supervisor had a talent for playing people against each other. Subtly at first, then blatantly. She wanted to know everything about our private lives, digging into details that had no bearing on our work. The moment she found out I was gay, her entire demeanor toward me shifted. It was like a switch flipped-suddenly, I wasn’t just Anna, a member of the team. I became the “other” one, someone she could treat as invisible when it suited her.
Conversations would flow around me as if I didn’t exist. Instructions were given to others, with no acknowledgment that I was in the room. Input were asked from others, mine was ignored. My blonde colleague was constantly praised for being “better”, though no specific reasons were ever given. Each day, the message became clearer: I didn’t matter. I wasn’t good enough.
Then one day, my boss’s house caught fire. Even though I was treated like I did not matter, I got into the car, and drove to Edenvale where they lived, and took them food. That was the first and only time she hugged me. I even got a thank you, the next day, we were back to our normal cycle of bullying.
I began to doubt everything. My abilities. My value. My self-worth. I questioned whether I belonged in the workplace at all. And while I felt the need to prove myself-to my manager, to the team, to everyone-I was also on a path of self-destruction.
Every day after work, I would go out. Bars, clubs, anywhere that allowed me to escape how I felt during the day. I’d come home just in time to shower, change, and head back to the office, operating on fumes. This pattern went on for weeks at a time, punctuated by days where I would crash and sleep endlessly, trying to recover from the cycle. I told myself it was temporary, but deep down, I knew it wasn’t sustainable.
Then one day, something shifted. I had had enough.
During yet another meeting where my supervisor dismissed me and addressed everyone else, I stood up. I turned to her, looked her square in the eye, and said, “I do not like the way you’re speaking to me. I have tolerated your bullying, but I’m no longer going to stand for it.”
The room fell silent. For a moment, she was caught off guard. I had finally found my voice. For the first time, I stood up for myself. That moment changed everything. Not the situation-abuse, unfortunately, remained a recurring theme in my corporate career. But I had proven to myself that I could push back. That I could choose not to accept mistreatment, even if it came from someone in a position of power.
It took me years to process what happened in that workplace. To heal from the emotional scars and rebuild my confidence. But that experience taught me something valuable: our worth is not dictated by how others treat us. And sometimes, standing up for yourself-even when it feels like the hardest thing to do-is the first step toward reclaiming your power.
If you’re reading this and you’ve faced a toxic workplace, know this: you are not alone. You are not invisible. And no matter how much someone tries to make you feel like you don’t matter, you do. Always.