Fragility

Hello Everyone.

It has been a very long time since my last post and for those of you, who may have missed my thought sharing, I apologise. I can list several reasons as to why I paused writing, but ultimately, it doesn’t’ change the fact that I did…Will I keep writing? I don’t know, but for today, I felt like sharing again…

So, as you may remember from my last few posts, I started my current job earlier this year. As expected, at the time, I arrived in my new workplace nervous, hoping to prove myself through competence and diligence, eager to demonstrate to myself, more than anyone else, that I had grown in confidence and that I can stand my ground.

The first few days seemed ordinary, filled with onboarding meetings, new software logins, HR sessions and polite introductions. The atmosphere was pleasant; everybody I had met up to that point, seemed nice enough and willing to help me settle and I was feeling positive and calm.

Then, a couple of weeks in, HE appeared. A senior man, well connected, who always spoke with a confidence that bordered on entitlement and arrogance. When he introduced himself to me during an online call, he looked not at my face, but at the space just below my eyes, as though I were something decorative rather than someone capable. I could sense from the first moment, that I would find it difficult working with him…

At first, his comments felt like careless jokes. References to my young appearance. A remark about women being better with soft skills. A patronising congratulations when I escalated a problem he had inherited from his predecessor but was refusing to address in a collaborative way. Each time, I told myself to ignore him. I needed to be liked. I needed to seem unbothered. I needed to appear in control. Yet, the subtle fracture that I felt from day one from meeting him, continued to grow little by little each time. I started doubting whether my presence was respected, whether I was doing my job well, whether I was merely tolerated due to my role in the project, whether I even needed to be around.

Whenever he entered an online meeting or the room face-to-face, my posture changed. My voice grew smaller. I began rehearsing every sentence before speaking, afraid that any mistakes would confirm his low expectations. Strength was slipping away in increments, and fragility took its place, as if his words had turned me into glass. Internally, I wondered why I could not simply defend myself. I had worked hard over the years to believe in my worth, yet suddenly, I felt as if his perception defined the limits of my ability.

There came a moment when he dismissed my proposal in a meeting with a smirk and followed up with a passive aggressive email, to which he included a lot of senior colleagues, implying that I was not doing my job properly and that I had decided that harmed the project, while not being a collaborative player. When I read it, I went numb. My brain froze. My heartrate went into overdrive. My throat tightened. I felt betrayed, attacked, exposed. I was horrified that my fragility was no longer invisible, and it frightened me.

That evening, alone at home, and accompanied by a generous glass of red wine, I forced myself to examine the situation with unbearable honesty. My fragility was not a flaw. It was a signal. It told me that something unjust was happening and that my internal collapse was a response to persistent dismissal, rather than personal weakness. I somehow, through tears and challenging my own negativity, found the strength to recognise that he was to blame and that I was not the problem. In fact, he was he problem and he had a problem with me, or rather simply, with the fact that I am female.

That was a light bulb moment for me…it will never cease to surprise me that not everyone believes and supports equality and that some people, treat women as lesser human beings. Sadly, this was another unlucky incident of me crossing paths with such a person. And, once again I needed to be reminded through experience that sexism is designed to erode confidence by degrees until silence feels safer than confrontation.

The next morning, I sat at my home desk with my head high and felt ready and determined to reclaim the sense of self that had been slipping away over the previous months. I reminded myself of all my worth. I sought allies among colleagues who had noticed his behaviour. I educated myself about reporting and boundaries, if I would ever need to escalate. Strength had started and is still finding its return…though not through loud confrontation, but through deliberate action rooted in my self-respect.

I remain aware that my fragility can return. The past has taught me that resilience is not a permanent state. Nevertheless, I continue to speak clearly, to push that little voice in my head to keep insisting that my contributions matter and to maintain the dignity that should never depend on the comfort of a sexist man.

This story is not defined by what he tried to take from me. It is defined by what I chose to rebuild…a belief that my voice carries weight and that no attitude of false and misplace superiority, will determine my value again.

I hope all of you are well. Take care.