I used to think toxicity was only a workplace thing.

That it only showed up in how your boss talks to you, how teams are managed, and how you’re treated in meetings.

But after a decade of working in tech—founding my own company, managing teams, working at Meta—I’ve realized it’s everywhere.

It’s in our partnerships.

It’s in our friendships.

And it’s slow. It creeps in drop by drop until one day you don’t recognize yourself.

The Drop Effect

There was this study once.

Prisoners were forced to sit under a slow, constant drip of water. It wasn’t violent. It wasn’t loud. It was just drop… by drop… by drop.

Eventually, it drove them to insanity.

That’s how toxicity works. It’s not always some dramatic, loud explosion. It’s the passive comments. The repeated invalidation. The subtle dismissal. The buildup of being ignored, disrespected, belittled—or just never supported.

You don’t notice it right away. But over time, you start to feel smaller. Tired. Numb. Off.

It’s Not Just Work

I once watched a friend walk out of a meeting in tears. We were working remotely in Mexico, sharing a little co-working space. And after one video call with her boss, she broke down.

The tone of voice, the way he dismissed her ideas, the lack of respect—it brought me right back to my own experiences.

To the boss who pulled me off projects.

To the leader who praised innovation but punished autonomy.

To the teams that said they cared but showed no empathy.

She wasn’t being yelled at.

She wasn’t doing anything wrong.

But she was being pushed out. Quietly. Deliberately.

And no one on her team was going to say anything about it.

And that’s the thing—when the toxicity is subtle, people around you stay silent.

It’s in Relationships Too

A married friend texted me recently: “I can’t carry this anymore.”

Her partner was struggling—addiction, grief, and financial stress. But he wasn’t doing the work.

And all of that pain and inaction were leaking into her body, her spirit, her mind.

When we’re highly empathetic, when we care deeply, when we don’t have strong boundaries, someone else’s chaos can become our nervous system’s baseline.

This is how it happens.

This is how your body forgets what peace feels like.

Who’s Most Affected?

➡️ People who people-please.

➡️ People who are naturally sensitive.

➡️ People who care.

➡️ People who want to make things work.

If you’re not extremely self-centered (in the healthy sense), chances are, you’ve been in toxic environments—at work, at home, in your friendships.

And because you’re emotionally intelligent, you probably tried to solve the situation by changing yourself.

But that doesn’t work. Not with this.

Step 1: Awareness and Acknowledgment

Sometimes you don’t even realize what’s making you anxious or tired.

You just feel… off.

Start here:

• What space are you in?
• Who are you talking to regularly?
• What conversations are looping in your head?

Label it. Name it. Identify what’s actually toxic. Is it the job? The boss? The relationship? The living arrangement?

And once you name it—get honest about the role you’ve played.

Did you ignore red flags? Did you stay too long? Did you let small things slide?

That’s not to blame yourself. It’s to reclaim your clarity.

Because if you don’t name it, you can’t change it.

Step 2: Rest and Reflection

You can’t heal in the same environment that hurt you.

I used to think I could just “push through” until things got better.

But the truth is, when you’re surrounded by the same triggers, your nervous system doesn’t get a break.

So if you can—step away. Even just for a bit.

Rest doesn’t always mean a fancy retreat. It could mean:

🔅 A weekend with your parents. 

🔅 Time in a friend’s guest room.

🔅 A solo walk, every evening, no phone.

🔅 A few days where you’re just unreachable.

The key is distance. Not to escape, but to reconnect with yourself away from the noise.

Step 3: Seek Support

This is not something you carry alone.

Therapy. Coaching. An energy healing session. A breathwork circle. A mentor. A reader.

Whatever your path is—get support from someone who sees clearly.

You need someone to mirror back to you what’s yours, what’s not, and what needs to be released.

Sometimes that looks like a session.

Other times, it’s a drastic reset—like a 10-day Vipassana.

Other times, it’s just crying on the couch with someone you trust.

But you can’t keep talking yourself into being okay in places that are actively hurting you.

Final Words

Toxicity doesn’t always scream.

Sometimes it whispers.

Sometimes it sounds like “maybe it’s not that bad.”

Sometimes it looks like being the only one trying.

But you feel it. In your body. In your gut. In your energy levels.

And when you feel it, you don’t need more proof.

You need a plan to get out.

Because you deserve to feel like yourself again.

You deserve to breathe.