My "rose-colored glasses" led me to dismiss the
warning signs. Sometimes the red flags weren’t as
obvious as a manager’s resume on the copy
machine or a series of VP resignations. They came
in subtle ways, like the comment, "Some of you
won’t be here next year," or conflicting messages
from upper management. These moments often
gave me an uneasy feeling, a nagging sense that
something wasn’t quite right—my "Spidey Senses"
were tingling. Yet, my optimism pushed me to
believe that these were just minor bumps in the
road that could be overcome.
Looking back, I now see that those red flags were
glaring, but I chose to focus on the possibilities
instead of acknowledging the risks. My optimism
led me to think that the situation could be fixed,
that things would get better, or at worst, that I
wouldn’t be personally affected. But I’ve learned
the hard way that optimism alone doesn’t change a
toxic culture or systemic problems. One particular
instance stands out: while many of my colleagues
were notified of the upcoming lay-offs, I was told
my position was secure. I stayed committed,
worked hard, and kept my optimism alive. But just
a month later, I too was handed my severance
package. That moment taught me a valuable
lesson: optimism needs to be balanced with
realism. It helped me understand that no amount
of dedication can overcome organizational
mismanagement.
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