Alright, so, let me tell you about this experience. It’s one of those things you don’t forget, you know? Someone properly yelled at me. And I mean, lungs-out, face-red kind of yelling. It wasn’t pretty, and honestly, it was a bit of a shocker at the time.
It all started, like these things often do, over something pretty minor. I was working on this project, and I’d submitted a progress report. Looking back, yeah, there was a small error in one of the data points. Not world-ending, easily fixable, something that a quick note would have sorted. I’d even say it was a bit buried in the document. But boy, oh boy, did that not matter.
My manager at the time, let’s just call him Dave. Dave calls me into his office. Or rather, bellows my name across the open floor. That was the first sign, I guess. I walk in, and he’s got this report in his hand, shaking it. He doesn’t even let me sit down. He just starts. Full volume. Pointing at this tiny mistake and going on about incompetence, lack of attention to detail, how this was going to ruin everything. It was intense. And the worst part? His door was wide open, so pretty much the whole team got a free show. Super embarrassing, and just, well, not right.
I remember just standing there. For a moment, I wanted to argue, to point out it was a small thing, that everyone makes mistakes. But then I looked at his face, all twisted up, and I just thought, “What’s the point?” So, I just nodded. Said something like, “I’ll fix it.” And I walked out. My ears were ringing a bit, not gonna lie.
So, what did I do then?
Well, first, I went back to my desk, heart pounding. I corrected the error, which took all of, like, two minutes. Sent the revised report. But the whole yelling thing? That stuck with me. I didn’t say anything to anyone else right away. I just sort of stewed in it for the rest of the day. It felt incredibly unfair, and more than that, just plain disrespectful.
That evening, I did a lot of thinking. This wasn’t the first time Dave had been, let’s say, overly critical or loud. But this was different. This was a public dressing-down over practically nothing. It made me realize a few things:
- This kind of environment? Not for me.
- Respect is a two-way street. If I’m not getting it, why am I here?
- My peace of mind is actually pretty important.
So, what came out of this “practice” in being yelled at? Well, the very next day, I started looking for a new job. Quietly, of course. I didn’t want any more drama. But that incident was the kick I needed. It made me evaluate what I really wanted from a workplace. It wasn’t just about the money or the projects; it was about the culture, the people, the basic human decency.
It took a couple of months, but I found something new. A place where feedback is constructive, not a barrage of noise. Where managers actually talk to you like you’re a fellow adult. Funny thing is, I heard later that Dave’s team had a pretty high turnover rate after I left. Can’t say I was surprised. Sometimes, getting yelled at can be a weird sort of blessing. It forces you to look around and say, “Nope, I deserve better.” And then you go out and find it. That whole experience, as unpleasant as it was, taught me to value myself and my well-being a lot more. And that’s a pretty good takeaway, I think.
