I know what it costs to be told it is you.

I was good at my job. I loved the work and the mission behind it. I was also in a work environment that made me feel invisible, incompetent, and like I did not belong.

A coworker targeted me since day 1. I was put on a performance plan after I spoke up. I decided the problem was me. I told myself I needed to be nicer, that I was too sensitive, that maybe it was all in my head.

So I did what capable women do. I worked harder. I followed every rule. I got quieter. I became who they wanted me to be and passed the plan quickly. Nobody gave me credit, support, or fair pay for it, and I burned out.

For a long time I felt trapped and alone. I updated my resume and was too exhausted to send it.

Then a formal investigation began, and for the first time someone else said out loud what I had lived. I realized everything I had felt was real, and that I had internalized their narrative and told myself that I was wrong. In the end the system protected itself and made my experience look like something it was not. I stopped shrinking anyway. I pushed for change and even initiated strategies to create more safety for other staff until I realized that you cannot change a system that is benefiting from making their employees feel like they aren't good enough.

Leaving still felt like grief, because I loved the work. When I landed somewhere healthy, I was trusted without having to prove myself, and I felt anxious and unsettled. That is when I understood how long I had been living in survival mode.

Along the way, women from the unhealthiest parts of organizations kept showing up in my office carrying the same things. I started focusing my work on them, and I have not stopped.