Disclaimer: This post is not a reflection of my current workplace. It draws from two decades of observation, conversations, and personal experiences navigating the wild and often weird world of small and midsize companies. If you feel personally attacked, you might want to sit with that for a minute.
I’m back y’all. Literally 24 hours after my last post – my world became sheer chaos. That’s a tale for another day though. Let’s talk toxicity y’all. It’s a Toxic Tuesday (on a Friday…)
There is something deeply ironic about how much corporate culture claims to celebrate ambition, yet that seems to only be on paper in my experience.
We post on social media repeatedly with quotes about hustle and drive and our climb to the top. We embody growth mindsets in performance reviews. We throw around phrases like “hungry, humble, and smart,” especially when recruiting, right? But the moment someone (usually a woman and especially a woman in her 40s who knows exactly what she brings to the table) shows up and actually acts ambitious, everything around them seems to change.
Suddenly, that ambition is no longer inspiring. It’s threatening. It’s too much. Maybe too direct. Ambition becomes impatient, and feels just a little too bold and self-aware.
And as any woman can attest – once you’ve been labeled as “too” anything – you’re moving to the corporate penalty box. PIP anyone?
I’ve lived in that corporate penalty box. Shit, I’ve had an engraved seat in there from time to time. I’ve been told to slow down. Or my personal favorite: “trust the internal process”. You know the process, right? It’s the one designed to stall your career or just flat out kill it where it stands. I’ve been “coached” to “tone it down” when I was outperforming expectations, and yet I’ve watched others get promoted for underperforming, simply because they were easier to manage or easier to ignore.
Let’s be honest: for women like me (47, fully aware of my worth, and no longer in the business of playing small) ambition isn’t exactly what could be called a liability. It’s how we’ve stayed in the corporate game, especially because the rules were never built for women like us.
It’s not ego or entitlement because some of us have survived some shit and lived to tell the tale. I mean – it’s just awareness of what we’re capable of and where we want to go next. When you have that kind of clarity, you see the corporate bullshit games for what they are.
We know that a promise vaguely given to “circle back next quarter” really mean “abso-fucking-lutely not” are you going to be considered for anything. Those ideas on how to grow revenue using streamlined resources? Wasn’t that a great idea that Mark in accounting had – even though it sounded like your idea, poorly re-worded? It still stings even when you see that your ambition has become a threat, instead of the asset it should be.

Eventually, you learn how to keep receipts and hold boundaries. (Ambitious women everywhere all have a file full of corporate receipts and lists of leaders not worth trusting.) If you’re not careful, you also learn how to shrink yourself to stay “safe.”
And now you’re stuck. When ambitious folks, especially women, see that their contributions are overlooked or when they’re told “not right now” just one too many times…they start to realize that no one is coming to help or even be that corporate advocate bestie they really could use.
Hello disengagement.
I’m not talking about disengagement in a dramatic way. It’s not the kind you notice in exit interviews or flouncing out LinkedIn posts. I’m talking about the quiet kind of disengagement. The kind where it’s like the person just slowly disappears.
Disengagement looks like showing up to meetings and saying less and less. Or maybe the camera is off in Zoom calls. If it’s on, you get slow and quiet nods from time to time. Self-preservation kicks in, and now the minimum job duties are being completed and completed without enthusiasm. Shit – what’s the point of going above and beyond when you’re going anywhere but where you are ?
Disengagement is ambition with no destination.
Here’s the part that fucks me up the most: toxic cultures are often built on the backs (and minds) of ambitious employees.
They rely on our will to make a better life for ourselves and our families. Leaders assign us the hardest shit because they know we’ll figure it out. We’re scrappy and resourceful.
They stretch us across three job descriptions because we won’t complain (out loud, anyway). These assholes are BANKING on our high standards, our attention to detail, and our passion – until we ask for growth. All of a sudden, we’re the problem.
Let that sink in for a second.
These corporate environments thrive and grow on ambition, but only when it’s silent and compliant. The moment it starts asking questions or focusing on self preservation, that ambition is now labeled as disloyal and ungrateful. How dare you become unmanageable?
Companies say they want retention, but how can that be true when they create environments that reward quiet compliance over loud contribution. They want innovation, but only if it fits inside their status quo. They say they love ambition but only if it doesn’t make anyone uncomfortable or feel too disruptive.
So yes, I’m ambitious – as horrible of a thing as that can be. I’m happy to say I’ve landed in a place that actively sought out that ambition, and they don’t expect me to shrink myself down to make anyone comfortable either.
I am a 47-year-old woman who has rebuilt herself, more than once, and is still ready to build again. I have big goals, big ideas, and a bigger-than-average sense of urgency because life has shown me that we don’t always get as much time as we think we do. I’m not waiting quietly for my turn, because I’ve already earned it.
So, to every woman who has been told she’s too direct, too eager, or just too much – I see you babes!! You are not broken or difficult or bad at “playing the game.”
You are ambitious and beautifully self-aware.
Your ambition isn’t a betrayal of your current role either. Think of it like love letter from Current You to your Future You.
And if that makes someone uncomfortable? Well… bless their under-challenged and narrow visioned little hearts. You’ve got bigger (and better) things to build.
Welcome to Playfully Toxic, your new favorite series on workplace red flags, culture bait-and-switches, and how to spot the BS before you sign the offer.
Come back next Toxic Tuesday for another round of truth bombs, stories, and survival tips for navigating the professional jungle.




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