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I am a few weeks into a new job.

There are real positives here—ones I don’t want to overlook. The work matters. There’s a sense of purpose in what the organization is trying to do, and many of the people I interact with are thoughtful, collaborative, and genuinely supportive. I’ve already had moments where I’ve been able to contribute in meaningful ways, especially through research, organization, and communication.

I was brought in to support a team—helping keep things on track, assisting where needed, and building systems that make everyone’s work a little easier. That kind of role fits me. I like being the person who notices what needs to be done and steps in.

Like any new role, there’s a learning curve. I’ve asked questions, taken initiative, and worked to improve quickly. When I’ve made mistakes, I’ve owned them—and more importantly, I’ve learned from them. That’s part of starting something new.

And in many ways, that learning has been supported.

But not everywhere.

There is a dynamic in my work environment that has been difficult to navigate. One that feels less like guidance and more like constant scrutiny. Interactions that focus heavily on what’s wrong, without space for growth, context, or acknowledgment of progress.

Over time, I’ve noticed the impact it has on me.

I second-guess things I normally feel confident doing. I feel anxious in situations that should be routine. I find myself overthinking simple tasks—not because I don’t understand them, but because I’m worried about how they will be perceived.

It’s not the work itself that feels overwhelming. It’s the environment around certain interactions.

What makes this harder is the contrast. Because alongside those moments are others where people are patient, helpful, and encouraging. Where questions are welcomed, and learning is part of the process. That contrast makes it clear: the issue isn’t my ability to do the job—it’s how different approaches to leadership and communication can shape a person’s experience.

I’ve had the opportunity in the past to work in environments where I felt psychologically safe—where I could learn, grow, and even struggle a little without feeling like I was being defined by a single moment. That kind of environment makes a difference. It allows people to do their best work.

When that sense of safety isn’t there, even small things can feel bigger than they are.

So I’ve been reflecting.

On what I need in a workplace.
On the kind of environment where I can thrive—not just perform.
On the difference between being challenged and feeling unsettled.

I don’t expect perfection. No workplace is perfect. But I do believe there should be space to learn without fear.

For now, I’m giving myself a little more time to observe, to continue learning, and to see whether things evolve.

At the same time, I’m staying open to other opportunities—ones that align not just with my skills, but with the kind of environment I know allows me to do my best work.

Because I’ve learned this much already:

It’s possible to be in a place with good people, meaningful work, and strong intentions—and still feel like something isn’t quite right.

And it’s okay to listen to that.