When the workplace isn’t safe anymore: A personal reflection on HR, mental health, and grace
For a while, I told myself to just push through.
Work was tense, but manageable. At least that’s what I thought until the days started blending into each other with anxiety, dread, and a heaviness I couldn’t shake. The truth is, working day after day in an unhealthy environment slowly chipped away at my peace, my confidence, and my joy.
I was partnered daily with someone who didn’t respect me not in an overtly aggressive way, but in the subtle, passive ways that can sometimes be more damaging. Strange looks in front of clients. Awkward silences. Small slights that grew into bigger resentments over time. And because we were always side by side with no break or buffer from each other, things started to build until I began to shut down emotionally, just to cope.
Eventually, I reached out for help. I went to my manager, thinking, “Surely someone will see what’s going on. Surely someone will care.”
But their response made it clear: they were more interested in managing optics than managing people.
Instead of long term support or accountability, I was offered a short two week placement somewhere else like a band-aid over a bullet wound. To make matters worse, when I requested a meeting with my manger to discuss about what my return to work would look like but instaed HR showed up without warning — which made it feel less like a conversation and more like an ambush, like is this LEGAL?! I sat there wondering if my voice even mattered, if anything I’d shared had actually been heard. Because not once did we get into detail what to be prepared for what my return to work would look like.
And still, I wrestled with my own part in it too. I didn’t always handle things well when working at that enviroment. There were moments I responded in frustration, ignored things I shouldn’t have, and let hurt harden my heart.
But I also know this: I was trying to survive in an environment where it was nearly impossible to thrive.
I was trying to be faithful in a place that no longer felt safe.
“That’s just how it is” — But what if it shouldn’t be?
When I opened up to my sister, she gently passed along what someone else had told her: “That’s just how HR is. That’s the culture in corporate jobs. You just have to take it for what it is, and move on.”
She told me to go back, and start looking for something new quietly, without rocking the boat.
And I love her, I know she meant well. Maybe she was trying to protect me from further hurt like financial. But something about that didn’t sit right in my spirit.
Because I can’t just sit with injustice and swallow it. I can’t pretend dysfunction is okay just because it’s normal. And I won’t train my mind to accept abuse in the name of professionalism.
I believe in peace, but not passivity. I believe in grace, but not silence that enables harm.
It’s like being told, “If you talk about Jesus, you’ll be killed.”
Well… then I guess I’d die.
Because I can’t be someone else to stay comfortable in a broken system.
This isn't just about work it’s about my integrity. It’s about how I walk with God, even when it costs me. I would rather be uncomfortable with Christ than cozy in a place that’s crushing my soul.
What I'm learning though this?
Here are a few things I’m still learning, with Jesus walking beside me:
Toxic doesn’t always scream, sometimes it whispers.
It’s easy to think toxic work environments are all shouting matches or dramatic fallouts. But sometimes, it’s subtle — a cold shoulder, quiet retaliation, lack of accountability, or fake professionalism that covers real damage.
Human Resources should protect people, not power.
When HR fails to advocate or intervene in meaningful ways, it reinforces the very harm it’s supposed to prevent. I’ve learned that “policy” without compassion is just PR. My sister defined them as the "bad cops." you don't want to talk to.
Your mental health is not a luxury, it’s a necessity.
God didn’t create us to burn out or break down. We are called to guard our hearts, not constantly expose them to harm in the name of being a “team player.”
Even Jesus withdrew to quiet places. Even Jesus didn’t entrust Himself to everyone. Knowing when to step back, say no, or seek space isn’t selfish, it’s wise.
You can walk away gracefully.
This was a hard one. I wanted to “win” to be heard, understood, maybe even validated. But sometimes, healing begins when we stop waiting for that, and choose to walk away with peace instead of proving our point.
I’m annoyed because it was after the call that all of this hit me. I wish I would’ve said something in the moment. I did send my manager an email right away, just to say how the surprise presence of HR caught me off guard — but still, I couldn’t help but feel like I missed my chance to say what really needed to be said.
Because choosing to walk away with peace instead of proving a point is the most powerful thing I can do right now.
Honestly? I don’t know what to do next. I feel a bit stuck but I’m choosing to surrender it to Jesus and hold His hand through it all.
It reminds me of a child who runs back to their Father saying, “They’re being mean to me!” And the Father gently says, “Come with me. I’ll handle this.” That’s what I see right now, hehe.
Because vengeance isn’t my job — it’s God’s.
And He sees everything I can’t explain, and He can do what I never could.
If you’re in a work situation that’s crushing your spirit, please know you’re not weak for feeling drained, you’re human. And you’re allowed to pursue peace. You’re allowed to seek health, not just a paycheck.
And most of all, God sees. He sees what others overlook. He hears the prayers behind closed doors. And He knows how to lead you from survival to safety, from exhaustion to rest.
I’m still walking this out. But I know now: I deserve a place where I can breathe, grow, and be treated with dignity and so do you.
romaincrisis
snowghoul
2087
