The Lies We Tell To Toxic Workplace

Throughout my career in the hospitality industry, I stumbled upon an unexpected insight from working alongside "slashies" - server/actors - in the film industry. On film sets, the well-being of the workplace often hinges on the actor at the top of the call sheet. Their behavior sets the tone for everyone involved. It doesn't matter if the rest of the team gets along; if the number one is toxic, it spreads like poison infecting the entire environment.

Let's face it - we've all experienced bad workplaces at some point. Those moments where inept superiors, annoying coworkers, or endless meetings that could have been emails make us question our career choices. But when incompetence turns into unchecked harassment and harm, the environment becomes toxic. 

Toxic leadership shows up in many ways, including unrelenting criticism, deliberate lack of support, cronyism, suffocating micromanagement, and a general absence of trust and respect. These behaviors create an environment of persistent negativity, unhealthy dynamics, and harmful practices. Over time, these behaviours spur stress, anxiety, and insecurity, draining an individual’s energy to the point of catatonia and putting them in survival mode.

I found myself in this state during the height of the COVID-19 pandemic in 2020. Like many others in the hospitality industry, my career was abruptly halted, leaving me in a deep existential crisis. It became clear that the paths we were on and goals we were working towards had been irreparably damaged as the sector underwent a profound transformation. Uncertain times led me to accept a position in an unrelated field, taking a significant decrease in income and professional stature. Naively, I believed that the leadership would have my best interests at heart.

Instead, for months I endured intentional, racially motivated mistreatment from a toxic leader. The work environment became so hostile that seeking solace from colleagues only resulted in defensive denial and cruel character attacks. It was during this time that I realized I was operating in survival mode, even though I didn't fully grasp the extent of it until it was too late. The blow they struck was devastating, and I will carry its mark forever, even as the wounds heal.

So, how did I remain unaware of the toxicity around me? The truth is, I wasn't necessarily oblivious; but in hindsight I was lying to myself. The reasons behind the lies I told myself during that period are complex and personal. However, to survive and escape that toxic situation, I had to confront my own truth and challenge the lies I clung to in order to rationalize the abuse. By sharing my story of survival and self-reflection, I hope to empower others to recognize the destructive narratives that can hold us captive in toxic workplaces so they too can seek recovery.

Lie One: "It's not that bad."

During the most difficult period, I reluctantly sought therapy to work through the challenges I was facing. I didn't believe my situation warranted professional intervention, trying to convince myself it couldn't be that bad. But as I recounted my work experiences during the intake session, the therapist abruptly interrupted, expressing extreme concern for my safety. They urged me to get out of there as soon as possible. While our default position is to try to tolerate, in that moment, I realized the situation had escalated to a dangerous level and was indeed, that bad.

Lie Two: "It only affects me."

Shortly after starting the job, my partner asked me to wait until after supper to discuss my day because talking about work triggered his stress eating. I brushed it off at the time, thinking it was a quirky relationship issue. I even shared the anecdote with my colleagues, finding it amusing. But we can fail to realize the underlying truth - our loved ones also endure the repercussions of our abuse. They set boundaries to protect themselves while we trivialize our own pain. Toxic workplaces affect not only us but those closest to us who watch us suffer.

Lie Three: "It's me, not them."

In the midst of surviving toxicity, I convinced myself that proving my worth through exceptional performance would change how leadership saw me. I believed that if I remained unyielding in my productivity, the harm would cease. But respectability politics showed me the painful reality - no matter how flawlessly we perform or how accommodating we become, in a toxic workplace their perception is beyond our control.

Lie Four: "I'm not part of the problem."

A few months into my shiny new job, I learned about the organization's troubled history of systemic racism. Many young BIPOC women had spoken up about feeling its constraints, requesting anti-oppression initiatives that were effectively dismissed. Hearing their stories, I initially saw myself as a bystander, caught in the aftermath. But I realized that my silence and reluctance to speak up played a role in perpetuating the toxic environment. I became a silent enabler, unknowingly contributing to the cycle of abuse.

We must confront the lies we tell ourselves, challenge toxic leadership, and prioritize respect, trust, and our well-being. Bravery comes from seeking help and speaking up against the abuse. Together, we can create healthier workspaces where every individuals worth and dignity are valued, and toxicity has no place.

About Tash

Tash McLeod is a veteran restaurant professional deeply committed to fostering safe, inclusive, and equitable workplaces in the hospitality industry. Currently serving as the Program Coordinator at WORTH Association, Tash actively supports the organization's mission to educate, elevate, empower, and advocate for all self-identifying women in the industry. She holds a BA in Gender Studies from the University of Lethbridge, where her senior thesis focused on Institutional Diversity. With a strong theoretical background in Diversity, Equity, and Inclusion, Tash leverages this expertise to further WORTH's efforts in building a community of belonging.