I Was Once Trapped in the Wrong Place

There wasn’t one clear breaking point at the start. No shouting match, no dramatic walkout at first. Just a quiet, persistent feeling that I was no longer growing, and honestly, maybe even shrinking, in a space I once believed would shape me. Over time, though, things did escalate, and I eventually reached a point where emotions ran high.

When I first joined the firm, I was hopeful. The role seemed promising, the scope sounded dynamic, and I was told I’d be part of something that mattered. For a while, that belief kept me going. I gave my best - managing multiple responsibilities, stepping up when others wouldn’t, and even volunteering to take on tasks outside my job description. I thought that’s what growth looked like.

But over time, the red flags became harder to ignore.

Simple boundaries became blurred. Time off started to feel more like a privilege than a right. Feedback, when given, was often laced with control rather than mentorship. There was an unspoken expectation to stay available, emotionally and physically, even when I was clearly exhausted. And slowly, I noticed my voice becoming smaller. I questioned myself more. I tiptoed around conversations. I started becoming someone timid.

But sometimes, it wasn’t just the work, it was the way we were spoken to.

I remember receiving “feedback” that was technically advice, but the tone felt more like a public slap than a helping hand. Eventually, I stopped feeling like a team member. I felt like a mistake waiting to happen.

On top of that, the working rhythm often followed one person’s mood, which meant the goalposts could shift at any time. One day, a task was fine. The next, it was “unacceptable.” No clarity, just pressure. It stopped feeling like a job - it just felt like survival.

I came into this job from a completely different environment. For me, many things were a first, first time handling certain systems, first time navigating a different industry culture. But I never used that as an excuse, I worked hard, learned fast, and pushed myself to catch up. Still, the room to make mistakes just wasn’t there.

Every little oversight was met with sharp remarks like, "I hope this is your last oversight," or "Jangan main buat je." These weren’t just corrections, they made me feel small, like my presence was more of a liability than a contribution. I constantly felt like I had to prove my worth.

It was belittling.

And the worst part? It made me question if my career even mattered. I started doubting my capability. I was constantly made to feel like I didn’t belong.

That’s when it hit me, this wasn’t just about work anymore. It was about dignity. About how you're treated when you’re still learning. About whether your mistakes are seen as growth, or used to undermine you.

So I chose to walk away, not because I gave up, but because I finally chose to value myself in a space that didn’t.

Leaving wasn't easy. It rarely is. But I realised that no job is worth losing yourself. Not the title, not the monthly "comfort".

It’s the moment you finally choose self-respect over silent suffering.

If you're reading this and feeling stuck, I hope you find the courage to ask yourself: What is this job costing me? And more importantly, is it still worth it?

As the Turkish saying goes, “Üzüm üzüme baka baka kararır.” (Grapes darken by facing each other.) I realised, our environment shapes us. And if the space you're in constantly makes you shrink, it might be time to choose light instead.

This was written during a difficult period and sat in my drafts for quite some time. I’ve healed and moved forward since then, and I’m choosing to share it now with peace.