Her initiatives became “team efforts” - minus her name. Meetings moved quietly. Threads dimmed the moment she replied. One afternoon, she walked into a room and saw her work on screen charts, language, even her examples. No credit. Just comfortable chatter around a table that had slowly pushed her out.
Her chest tightened. They’re erasing me, her thoughts warned.
Then came the voice she had trained: My mind says they’re erasing me. That hurts. And I still get to choose who I become.
She sat down, steady.
“This framework looks familiar,” she said, calm but firm. “It’s from the draft I sent last week. Let’s ensure leadership sees the original with proper credits. I’ll confirm in writing.”
A silence. A glance. A shift.
That evening, Riya created a private document:
dates, names, facts.
👉 Not with any rage......just clarity.
Then, she messaged two colleagues outside the inner circle:
“I’d love to co-lead the next project. Transparency and shared credit matter to me. Interested?”
They said yes.
The toxic patterns didn’t stop, but she stopped absorbing them or letting them hurt her. She now had allies, documentation, and a compass.
She asked herself daily:
“Who do I want to be in this storm?”
Her answer shaped her every move :
🟢 The tone in her emails
🟢 The boundaries in her meetings
🟢 The quiet power in her plans - to grow, or to go.
🟫 Moral:
You can’t always change the weather but you can steer by your values. Let the storm rage. You still get to choose your direction.
Riya didn’t fight dirt with dirt.
She didn’t chase approval. She rose, with clarity, aligned with her own truth.
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