The Flaw I Couldn't See - Until It Cost Me
1. When Everything Was Going Right
Things were good—really good. I had a steady job as an accounts rep, and life felt great. I knew my stuff, explained things clearly to customers, and got along well with my coworkers. People came to me with questions, and I liked being that go-to person.
I felt valued. I felt useful. There was a rhythm to my days that gave me a quiet sense of pride. I wasn’t trying to impress anyone—I just felt confident in who I was and what I brought to the table.
If you’d asked me back then, I would’ve said, “I’m in a good place.”
I had no idea what was coming next.
2. When Everything Fell Apart
It happened in a moment I didn’t see coming. I snapped at a coworker—let’s call her Betsy—over a billing mistake I thought she made.
My tone? Sharp.
My words? Cold.
I didn’t yell, but I was dismissive.
I told myself I was just being honest… but I was being critical.
And it wasn’t the first time.
My supervisor called me in and told me, gently but clearly, that I was making people uncomfortable. That my tone was affecting the team.
I was stunned. Embarrassed. Defensive.
I had no idea I’d built that kind of reputation.
But suddenly, little things I’d brushed off made sense.
I wasn’t seen as helpful—I was seen as harsh.
And that was a hard truth to swallow.
3. The Only Fix
That night, I couldn’t sleep. I kept thinking about what was said—and more importantly, what wasn’t.
Nobody had ever come out and told me I was hard to work with before. But now I could feel it.
I kept justifying my behavior in my head:
“I was just trying to help… It’s not my fault they made a mistake.”
But deep down, I knew the truth.
If I wanted things to get better, it wasn’t about them changing.
It was about me.
I couldn’t control what anyone else did.
The only fix had to start with me.
4. Still Didn’t Jump Into Action
And yet… I still didn’t jump into action.
I didn’t wake up the next morning ready to become a whole new person.
Instead, my brain started feeding me every excuse in the book:
“This is just who I am.” I’ve always been meticulous. I thought that was a good thing.
“If I change, I’ll lose my edge.” What if I stopped speaking up and everything fell apart?
“It’s too late anyway.” People had already made up their minds. Would they even believe I’d changed?
Those excuses gave me a way out—for a minute.
Something in me held back.
I convinced myself it might blow over.
That I was overthinking it.
That maybe they were being too sensitive.
I didn’t take a step forward—but I didn’t retreat either.
I just stayed … stuck.
5. The Choice Not to Change
For a little while, I almost convinced myself to just ride it out.
To fake a smile.
To do my job and hope people forgot.
But late at night, when everything was quiet and there was no one left to explain myself to… I started imagining what life would look like if I didn’t change.
6. What If I Didn’t Change
I saw myself at the same desk, doing the same job—but fading into the background.
Coworkers no longer stopping by.
Quiet avoidance.
Opportunities slipping by—not because I wasn’t capable, but because people didn’t trust me.
I pictured myself watching someone else get the recognition I wanted.
Been there, done that. I already knew the feeling.
But this time, deep down, I knew I’d done it to myself.
It wasn’t loud or dramatic. But the slow loss of connection and respect?
That scared me.
That’s when it hit me:
If I didn’t change, I’d regret it.
Maybe not tomorrow. But definitely later.
7. Turning Point
So, I stopped waiting.
I let go of the “perfectionist” label I’d been hiding behind.
I started listening more and correcting less.
I invited feedback. I asked questions. I opened the door to connection again.
At first, people hesitated. They weren’t sure it was real.
But slowly…
The tension eased.
The conversations softened.
The trust began to rebuild—not just theirs in me, but mine in myself.
8. Becoming Someone I’m Proud Of
These days, I pay attention—not just to the work, but to how I show up.
I pause. I listen. I choose grace over control.
I don’t need to be right all the time anymore.
Sure, the old habits still try to creep in—but now, I catch them.
I course-correct.
Growth doesn’t mean I’m perfect now—it means I’m aware.
And honestly? I like who I’m becoming.
I’m proud of her.
9. My Message to You
If you’ve ever thought, “I’m just being honest,” or, “They’re too sensitive,”—
I encourage you to pause.
That flaw you keep justifying?
It might be costing you more than you know.
Growth doesn’t come from blaming others.
It starts when you finally look inward and decide—
This isn’t who I want to be anymore.
You have the power to change your story.
I did.
And it made all the difference.
