Back when I was finishing university, life did not exactly wait for a soft landing. My family’s breadwinner passed away. 

Suddenly, I was not just grieving but also job-hunting. 

I found myself internships in the events, communications and activations space. For a brief moment, I actually enjoyed it. I was young, energetic and foolishly believed hard work and a kind heart were enough to shield me from harm. Then came the first slap in the face – metaphorical but scary: my boss at that time publicly called me “useless” – just like that. There was no build-up or feedback.Just a straight-up character assassination in front of colleagues. I was humiliated and blindsided, but determined that she just wanted to groom me, so I stayed. I tried harder. However, the harder I tried, the stronger the humiliation. So, I quit! I found another job and told myself that it was a fresh start. It turns out that “fresh” can still reek. 

Again, I was told I was not good enough. This time it was in stereo, alongside a friend. Apparently, mediocrity is more convincing when it is delivered in groups, LOL! 

At the time, I did not recognise the erosion – a thousand small cuts, a steady dismantling of confidence – one unkind word at a time. 

By the time I got my foot in the corporate world, I had no idea I was already bleeding out self-worth. 

But I told myself, this is where it all begins. I mean, I had experience, so I had what it takes.  Spoiler alert: experience does not cancel toxicity.

Breaking point 

My next job started deceptively well. Year one was about growth, learning and possibilities. Things started looking better. 

Then came years 2, 3, 4 and 5, an extended masterclass on how not to lead. Once again, I was “useless”, apparently a fan-favourite insult in toxic workplaces. I was dragged into workplace politics, threatened with legal consequences and treated like a walking mistake.

When you hear the same thing over and over, especially in environments that thrive on fear, you start to internalise it. 

I began to believe that I was genuinely incapable. It became easier to doubt myself than to keep defending against a narrative that was louder than the truth.

Eventually, my body stepped in. Panic attacks started at the office entrance. I had to sit in my car, rehearsing “just breathe” like it was a corporate policy. Eventually, I saw a psychologist. When medication was suggested, at this point, I knew I had to resign, again. 

I quit, with no backup plan – no net but just the terrifying silence that comes after survival and an urgent need for peace of mind. That was definitely my last straw!

To anyone reading this: I do not recommend quitting before finding another job. However, I do not recommend staying where your soul goes to die.

In a plot twist even I could not predict, a company that had previously rejected me called. I walked into the interview half-expecting someone to shout ‘incompetent!’ But instead, they hired me. So, I started over – head down and voice small, waiting for the first insult.  This was while silently building up competence, coupled with academic qualifications and experience. This time, I was prepared. Not only was I prepared, but I had a leader who knew what it really meant to lead. 

She did something I was not prepared for: she believed in me. And slowly, she helped rebuild what years of abuse had torn apart. 

What I know now

It was not me. I was young and a beginner, so I applied what I knew then. It was definitely not useless. 

I built competence – no one can trash competence. You have to have your own back. No one is coming to save you – not human resources, not your colleagues and not the person who says ‘my door is always open’. Toxicity is not feedback. Do not mistake cruelty for honesty or hostility for leadership. 

You can leave and live – I did. And despite the odds, I did not just survive, but I rebuilt. People love saying, “We made you who you are”. No, you did not. I did not get here because of you. I got here despite you. 

And frankly, that is the most impressive narrative. There is a Japanese art called kintsugi, where broken pottery is repaired with gold, making it even more valuable than before. That is how I see myself now.

Yes, I still have doubts, but I am no longer afraid of being “useless”. 

So, to anyone out there in a job that is slowly killing your confidence, watch the signs, trust your gut, and do not let broken people make you small. You are not crazy or weak. And you are definitely not “useless”.

You are just not where you are supposed to be yet. This is not the end. It is the beginning of great things.

*Laurencia Prinzonsky is a marketing and communications manager with a flair for elevating brand presence. She specialises in brand, re-brand and corporate marketing; impactful corporate social investment initiatives as well as corporate internal and external communication.