You don't have to put up with this

Sometimes the bar gets so low at work that you don't even realise you're tripping over it.

I see this a lot with clients. They come to me frustrated about a promotion that never came, recognition that didn't materialise, a reporting line that makes no sense, a manager who doesn't seem to see them, or a workplace where they have gradually become the person who picks up everyone else's slack.

And often, the hardest part isn't what has happened. It's the realisation of how long they've been putting up with it.

That can bring up some pretty uncomfortable feelings. Anger. Frustration. Regret. Sometimes even shame. You start wondering why you didn't speak up sooner, push harder, ask for more, or leave earlier.

But I think we need to be careful with that story.

You were making decisions with the information, confidence and circumstances you had at the time. Maybe you were hopeful that things would change. Maybe you were trying to be reasonable. Maybe you didn't want to be the squeaky wheel. Maybe you were simply doing what you thought you needed to do to keep things moving.

That doesn't mean you've done anything wrong.

It does mean there may be something worth paying attention to now.

One of the questions I often ask clients is: What have you come to accept at work that you would immediately recognise as unreasonable if someone you cared about told you the same story?

That question can be surprisingly revealing.

Because sometimes the first step isn't deciding whether to stay or go. It's simply recognising that the bar has been sitting far too low for far too long.

Sometimes you've been given the leadership title without ever being given a real seat at the table.

I see this particularly with mid-career women who have worked hard to get into leadership. They've earned the title, they're invited to the meetings and they're told they're an important part of the leadership team. But look more closely and sometimes they're still doing the delivery, cleaning up the mess, taking the orders and executing someone else's agenda. They're in the room, but they're waiting on the table.

And sometimes it's the other way around. You haven't been given the title, but you're already doing the leadership work. You're steering the ship, solving the difficult problems, making the calls and carrying significant responsibility. You might be one of the sharpest tools in the box, yet somehow the recognition or promotion has gone elsewhere.

In both situations, there's a disconnect between the level you're actually operating at and the level at which you're being recognised.

That's something I often work through with clients. Sometimes the answer is to start operating more strategically and make your contribution more visible. Sometimes it's about having the conversation, building the evidence and asking for what you've earned. And sometimes, you have to accept that the organisation simply isn't going to give you the seat you've already earned and decide what you're going to do with that information.

The question I often ask is: If I took my job title away and looked only at what I actually do, what level am I operating at? And does my recognition match it?

The title matters, but so does the substance behind it.

Knowing when to stay, when to shift and when to step away is one of the harder parts of a career.

I don't think every difficult workplace means you should leave. Careers are rarely that simple, and sometimes a situation can be repaired, a relationship can be reset, a role can be reshaped or a different approach can change the outcome.

But there are also times when you've tried, you've waited, you've had the conversations and you've given it every reasonable chance, and the situation still isn't working for you.

This is often where I come in with clients. I'm not there to tell you to quit, and I sure as hell won't convince you to stay. I'm there to help you get some distance from the emotion, look honestly at what's happening and work out what your options actually are.

Sometimes the answer is to stay, but do something differently. Sometimes it's to shift within the organisation. And sometimes the healthiest and most strategic decision is to step away.

When you're deeply embedded in a workplace, it can be incredibly hard to see those options clearly. You've got history with the people involved, you've invested a lot, and there are usually a whole lot of emotions wrapped up in the decision.

The best advice I could give you is to take the emotion out of the decision, not out of the equation.

Your feelings are telling you something. They don't necessarily get to make the final call.

Give yourself enough space to understand what is happening, what you can change, what you can't, and what staying or leaving would actually mean. Then make the decision from there.

If you're going to leave a difficult workplace, leave in a way that protects the career you're taking with you.

This is something I talk about a lot with more senior clients, particularly when the organisation itself is going through a difficult period. Maybe there has been a leadership crisis, a restructure, poor decision-making, a reputational issue or a culture that has become genuinely toxic.

You can be completely justified in wanting out. But your career doesn't end when you walk out the door, and sometimes the way you leave matters almost as much as the decision to leave.

That doesn't mean covering for bad behaviour or pretending everything was wonderful. It means being thoughtful about what you put in writing, what you say to whom, how you position your departure and, importantly, how you tell the story afterwards.

Because mud sticks.

I've worked with senior clients who are trying to move forward after a really difficult chapter at work, and part of my role is helping them separate themselves professionally from what happened around them. We look at the story, the evidence, the language and the positioning so that they can tell the truth without carrying someone else's mess into their next chapter.

You don't have to pretend it didn't happen. You don't have to defend an organisation that let you down. But you do get to decide how much of that story comes with you.

Before you leave, ask yourself: what do I want the next person to understand about me when they hear the story of this chapter?

Then make your exit accordingly.

Sometimes you don't need another career strategy. You need someone firmly in your corner.

One of the things I hear most often from clients is how much of a relief it is to have somewhere to put all of this. Someone who isn't their boss, isn't HR, isn't their partner and isn't emotionally invested in whether they stay or go. Someone who can listen to the whole messy story and then help them work out what to actually do about it.

Think of me as your career bestie. Your fairy job mother. The friend who will metaphorically wipe away the tears, talk you off the ledge and help you word the email you wrote when you were furious and had absolutely nothing to lose.

I'm also the friend who will tell you, kindly but firmly, when you're wrong. I'll challenge you when I think you're getting in your own way, but I'll also tell you when you're being treated poorly, when you've been asking too little of your workplace and when you deserve better, even if you can't quite see it or believe it yet.

That's the part of coaching that doesn't always fit neatly into a list of services. Yes, we'll talk strategy. We'll work on your career direction, your positioning, your next move and all the practical things that need to happen. But we'll also make space for the anger, the tears, the second-guessing and the moments when you think you've completely lost the plot.

I've been there too. I know what it feels like to question yourself when something isn't working and to wonder whether you're the problem.

You don't have to work it all out on your own. If you're carrying a career decision, a difficult workplace or a professional situation that has started to feel too big to hold by yourself, book a Connection Call with me. We can talk it through, work out what's really going on and see what kind of support might be right for you.