The Invisible Black Woman

Here’s your courtesy heads up that this gone be some heavy and possibly infuriating shit that follows. With that said, let’s get into it…

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Yesterday, I came across a post that’s still sitting heavy on my heart. So I’m gonna go head and get this off my chest before returning to our “regularly scheduled programming.” The post was about Antoinette “Bonnie” Candia-Bailey, a woman whose life was tragically cut short. She died by suicide, and while no one can ever truly know the depths of someone else’s pain, one thing was clear: workplace bullying played a significant role.

The part that had me fully scratching my head wasn’t the post itself. It was one solitary comment I saw right below the post. The person started by saying they disagreed and saying something to the effect that this shouldn’t be blamed on her job, that she could have done more to fix the situation. At the end, the person says, “she could’ve just left.” Huh. Never thought of that one! As if it’s that simple. As if anyone going through something so mentally and emotionally debilitating can just snap their fingers and get out. The sheer lack of empathy in that comment left me fuming but also heartbroken.

Here’s the thing. There are times in life where people just don’t get it. They don’t get what it’s like to be broken down, not just by circumstances, but by people, by systems, by an environment that tells you in subtle and not-so-subtle ways, day after day, that you don’t belong. That you’re not good enough. And when you add workplace bullying into the mix? It’s a whole other level of soul-crushing. The kind that follows you home, that makes you feel like no matter where you go, you can’t escape it.

Let me make one thing abundantly clear: leaving a toxic job ain’t as easy as saying, “Okay, I’m done here.” The job market? Trash. Uncertainty? Sky-high. The idea that Bonnie could have just walked away, like so many seem to think is possible, completely misses the mark.

Maybe you’ve been there. Maybe you’re there now. You wake up in the morning with a pit in your stomach, dreading what the day has in store for you. You go to bed at night, exhausted not just by the tasks you completed but by the mental gymnastics you had to perform to survive. To make sure you weren’t stepping on any toes. To avoid being torn apart again by a boss, a coworker, or just the toxic culture of a place that doesn’t see you for who you are.

Bonnie was one of us. Just trying to make it. Just trying to do her job and get through the day. And for someone to look at her story and reduce it to “Well, she could have just left” is such a reflection of the callousness so many people carry. That same energy that lets toxic workplaces continue unchecked. That same energy that tells us, “If you’re struggling, it’s your own fault.”

But this isn’t about that person’s comment. This is about the bigger conversation that comment is a symptom of. The one that says, “if you’re in a bad spot, just leave.” And I know my Blue Notes often carry that message too—a reminder not to stay where you are, a push toward better. But what I need y’all to understand is that those Blue Notes? They’re not an expectation that you can just snap your fingers and magically be out of your situation tomorrow. It’s not saying that once you read it, you’ll wake up with new clarity and your troubles will disappear.

Far from it.

Those Blue Notes? They’re a reminder that better is out there (hell, they’re a reminder for me first and foremost, if I’m being honest). Not that you have to have it right this second. Not that the road is easy or clear or even visible most days. It’s a nudge. A hand on your back, gently pushing you forward even when you feel like you can’t move. But it’s not pressure. It’s not judgment. It’s not an expectation that any of us can just pull ourselves up and out whenever we want. That’s not how life works, and it’s sure as hell not how toxic workplaces operate.

Now, let’s talk about the reality of working in a toxic environment. This isn’t just about a bad day at work. I’m not talking about the kind of job where you’re just a little stressed or annoyed because of a deadline. No, what I’m talking about—and what Bonnie experienced—is a job that sucks the life out of you. A job where you are bullied, undermined, and gaslit into thinking you’re the problem. A job where no matter how much you give, it’s never enough, and the abuse you endure is labeled as “tough love” or “just part of the job.”

Imagine being in a place where your contributions aren’t just unrecognized—they’re intentionally belittled. Where your existence is questioned, and the only thing worse than the work itself is the people who are supposed to be on your team. Toxic jobs aren’t just places where people don’t get along. They are places where the very culture is rotten, where bullying and manipulation are not just allowed, but encouraged. And the worst part? It doesn’t stay at work. You bring it home with you. It eats at you. It becomes part of your every waking moment.

I can’t count the number of people who’ve shared their stories with me about being bullied at work. About the constant micromanagement, the belittling comments, the passive-aggressive emails, the isolation. And the worst part? For so many of them, leaving isn’t an option. They’re in toxic jobs because they need the paycheck. They have families to support. Bills to pay. Health insurance to keep.

And you know what happens when you’re in a job like that for long enough? You start to believe it’s your fault. That maybe you’re just not cut out for this. That maybe you do need to toughen up. Because how else do you explain what’s happening? Why else would this keep happening to you?

This is the dark reality of toxic workplaces. They don’t just break you down—they convince you that you’re already broken.

The commenter in Bonnie’s post acted like it’s just a matter of finding a new job. As if the second you decide to leave, job offers will magically appear. But anyone who’s been in the job market recently knows that’s not the case. The job market right now? It’s nucking futs, and I’m speaking firsthand.

For every job you apply to, you’re competing with hundreds, sometimes thousands, of other applicants. You might be lucky to get an interview, and even luckier if you get an offer. And while you’re going through that process, you’re still in the toxic environment, still dealing with the daily trauma, still questioning your worth. It’s a vicious cycle—one that’s nearly impossible to break free from when you’re in the thick of it.

Even if you do get a new job, there’s no guarantee that it won’t be just as toxic. It’s not like there’s a label that tells you which companies are healthy and which ones aren’t. You could end up jumping from one bad situation to another, and the damage from the first job follows you. The anxiety, the hypervigilance, the fear of making mistakes—it all comes with you to the next job. Toxic workplaces leave scars, and those scars don’t heal overnight.

What struck me the most about Bonnie’s story—and the comment that followed—was the lack of empathy. Here’s a woman who was in so much pain, who was enduring so much, that she felt her only option was to choose permanent and perpetual rest. And instead of compassion, someone came along and said, “Well, she could have done something different.”

How many times have we heard this? How many times have people been told that their pain is their fault? That if they had just done something differently, they wouldn’t be in this situation? It’s this kind of thinking that allows toxic workplaces to continue. It’s this lack of empathy that keeps people trapped in situations they feel they can’t escape. Because when the world tells you it’s your fault, it becomes nearly impossible to see a way out.

If you’re in a toxic job right now, if you’re dealing with workplace bullying, if you feel trapped—this is not your fault. You didn’t ask for this. You didn’t bring this on yourself. And you deserve better. You deserve a workplace where you are respected, where you are valued, where you can thrive.

But I also know that getting out isn’t easy. It takes time. It takes resources. And sometimes, it feels like it takes more energy than you have left. But please know, it’s okay to take your time. It’s okay to not have it all figured out right now. My Blue Notes are here to remind you that better is out there, but it’s not an expectation that you’ll find it tomorrow. It’s a reminder that you deserve better. And when the time is right, you’ll find your way to it.

In the meantime, give yourself some grace. Surround yourself with people who remind you of your worth. And remember that you are not alone. There are so many of us who’ve been where you are—and still are. We see you. We hear you. And we’re rooting for you just as much as we root for ourselves.

Until next time, I wish you nothing but sunshine, rainbows, and unicorns, which are no less real than the spectacularly amazing creature you are.