Red
In every industry, there will always be someone with less experience who ends up enduring systematic hazing from more seasoned coworkers. This behavior creates a toxic work environment and drives people away. Of course, we all have bad days, and when we’re training others, our patience can wear thin. But consistent hostility isn’t about stress — it’s about control.
I’ve worked in many different fields, and in every workplace, there always seems to be a few manipulative people who target others simply because they can — and because they know they can get away with it. As someone who’s had to keep jobs just to pay bills, buy food, and survive, I’ve learned a few hard truths worth passing on:
Show up on time
Do your best
Be kind and helpful
Be resourceful
And most importantly, debrief your day on your way home — and leave work at work
Being a professional means developing the skill to work effectively with people you may not like or agree with. In any team, everyone brings something unique to the table. We all have strengths — and things we can improve.
Now, take that same dynamic and apply it to another kind of team: your friend group.
No one’s getting paid to be there (unless companionship counts as currency), but the social rules are surprisingly similar. New members have to be accepted by the “leaders” of the group before they’re invited to activities.
As someone who’s spent time on the outside of these circles, here’s my two cents:
Don’t fight to be part of a group that doesn’t respect or appreciate you. Doing so is like volunteering to be mistreated — to be used, dismissed, and taken for granted. Support is valuable, but is it really support when it comes from people who don’t genuinely care?
There’s no reason to invite extra drama or negativity into your life when what you truly want is peace, love, and prosperity.
The color red often serves as a warning — red flags, stop signs, and even the phrase “bad blood.” With free will, we all have the power to choose our surroundings, but some of us are more vulnerable to being taken advantage of despite the warnings in front of us. Recognizing those red flags — and walking away — is part of reclaiming that power.
As a type of walking red flag, I can recognize another from far away — a living example of “it takes one to know one.” People who carried that same intensity, that same woundedness, felt familiar. I thought that meant belonging. In truth, it was just a cycle repeating itself — the hurt recognizing the hurt. I somewhat became an empath over time, and it made me a better person.
It took time to see that not every mirror is meant to reflect back love. Sometimes, it reflects your own unresolved lessons. Red flags don’t always appear as warnings at first; they can look like adventure, charm, or empathy. But if you look closely enough, you start to notice patterns — how a joke has an edge to it, how kindness has conditions, how someone’s compliments are always followed by control.
I used to think protecting my peace was selfish — that saying “no” meant shutting people out. Now I see it as an act of maturity, even love. Boundaries aren’t about rejection; they’re about self-respect. When you’ve worked hard to find calm after years of chaos, you guard it the way you’d guard a home you built with your bare hands.
And yet, I also believe in compassion. Everyone has red flags. The difference is whether we wave them proudly or work on lowering them. Sometimes the same people who once hurt others are the ones trying to grow the most — to unlearn their habits, to treat people better than they were treated. Growth doesn’t mean perfection; it means accountability. It means noticing when your own behavior mirrors what you once resented, and doing better next time.
In both work and friendships, that’s the real challenge: learning to exist with others while keeping your integrity intact. You can’t control who targets you, dismisses you, or misunderstands you — but you can choose how to respond. You can choose whether to fight battles that drain you or to walk away quietly, preserving your energy for something that matters.
If I could tell my younger self one thing, it would be this: peace isn’t a reward someone gives you after you’ve proven yourself worthy. It’s a decision you make every day. It’s walking away from fake friends without guilt. It’s staying professional in a toxic workplace until you find a better one, without letting bitterness define you. It’s forgiving yourself for the times you ignored the warnings because you just wanted to belong.
In recognizing red flags — in others and in ourselves — we start to live more honestly. And maybe that honesty, more than anything else, is what turns a walking red flag into someone finally waving a white one — a sign of peace, surrender, and new beginnings.
