One of my clients—smart, capable, and deeply stuck....
....recently made a move that I think more of us should consider.
They’re miserable at work. Not because they can’t do the job, or because the work is beneath them, but because the environment is petty. Cliquey. Small. The kind of workplace where politics matter more than progress, and where asking for clarity or connection is treated like a threat.
So they did something brave.
They reached out—across departments—to someone in sales. Just to talk. To explore. To see if there was a better fit somewhere else in the company. A quiet act of curiosity. Of hope.
And what happened?
The manager they reached out to did the professional thing and looped in my client’s current supervisor.
Who did the unprofessional thing, and got offended.
No conversation. No curiosity. Just offense. The old “why didn’t you tell me first?” move. My client was left feeling small. Embarrassed. Trapped. Convinced they were now the topic of whispered hallway conversations and WhatsApp side-channels.
And maybe they are. But you know what I told them?
Let them whisper.
Because even if people are complaining, somewhere in the back of their minds, a new question is forming:
Why is this person networking? Why are they being noticed? Why is someone interested in them—and not in me?
In the Navy they would call that a shot across the bow. A signal. Not an attack, but a message.
"I won’t hit you this time—but I could. Pay attention. I have power too."
This wasn’t sabotage. It wasn’t betrayal. It was a subtle announcement: I’m not going to stay trapped. I’m exploring my options. And if you're not engaging me, someone else might.
This whole thing could’ve gone another way. The supervisor could’ve seen it for what it was: an employee, disengaged and curious, reaching out in the only way they felt possible. They could’ve had a conversation. Asked a question. Extended trust.
But they didn’t. Because too many managers don’t make space for those conversations in the first place. If you don’t open the door, you don’t get to be surprised when someone finds a window.
My client, to their credit, didn’t fold. We’ve been working together to turn this experience into power. Power to leave on their own terms—when they’ve spoken up, when they’ve asked for what they need, when they’ve made it clear how they want to be managed. If change happens, great. If not, they’ll leave proudly. On a win. On their feet.
This is the part most people miss: leaving doesn’t have to be an escape. It can be a declaration. A statement of values. A way of saying, I tried. I spoke. I reached out. I led.
And when they leave, it won’t be with bitterness—it’ll be with a resume full of proof, a mindset grounded in strength, and a quiet message left behind:
You missed your shot. I won’t be overlooked again.
Add comment
Comments