By Dr. Donna Card-Sessoms
Optimism sees opportunity in every challenge, giving us the motivation to persevere and innovate even in difficult times. Loyalty builds trust and strengthens relationships, creating a foundation for collaboration in both personal and professional spaces. These qualities have often helped me maintain a positive outlook, foster collaboration, and remain dedicated to long-term goals. For a perpetual optimist, who sees the glass as half full, lemons make lemonade and lemon pie, problems were opportunities to build and accomplish more goals and became my modus operandi. After all, my blood type is B+. For me, challenges were stepping stones, and I operated with the belief that everything would work out for the best—because the best was always yet to come.
But what happens when optimism and loyalty blur our ability to see the red flags waving right before us? The very qualities that drove me to succeed also made it hard to recognize the subtle signs of trouble. I am deeply loyal—not just to my family and friends, but it often extends to the team, my department, the vision of the leader, and the mission of the organization. Alhamad and Amirah (2024) describe employee loyalty as a strong commitment to their employer, leading to increased engagement, productivity, and a willingness to go above and beyond. This resonates with me deeply. But this loyalty has not always served me well. In a previous role, I believed that my optimism could improve a toxic work environment, while my loyalty kept me there longer than I should have, hoping for change that never came. My “rose-colored glasses” led me to dismiss the warning signs. Sometimes the red flags weren’t as obvious as a manager’s resume on the copy machine or a series of VP resignations. They came in subtle ways, like the comment, “Some of you won’t be here next year,” or conflicting messages from upper management. These moments often gave me an uneasy feeling, a nagging sense that something wasn’t quite right—my “Spidey Senses” were tingling. Yet, my optimism pushed me to believe that these were just minor bumps in the road that could be overcome.
My “rose-colored glasses” led me to dismiss the warning signs. Sometimes the red flags weren’t as obvious as a manager’s resume on the copy machine or a series of VP resignations. They came in subtle ways, like the comment, “Some of you won’t be here next year,” or conflicting messages from upper management. These moments often gave me an uneasy feeling, a nagging sense that something wasn’t quite right—my “Spidey Senses” were tingling. Yet, my optimism pushed me to believe that these were just minor bumps in the road that could be overcome.
Looking back, I now see that those red flags were glaring, but I chose to focus on the possibilities instead of acknowledging the risks. My optimism led me to think that the situation could be fixed, that things would get better, or at worst, that I wouldn’t be personally affected. But I’ve learned the hard way that optimism alone doesn’t change a toxic culture or systemic problems. One particular instance stands out: while many of my colleagues were notified of the upcoming lay-offs, I was told my position was secure. I stayed committed, worked hard, and kept my optimism alive. But just a month later, I too was handed my severance package. That moment taught me a valuable lesson: optimism needs to be balanced with realism. It helped me understand that no amount of dedication can overcome organizational mismanagement.
In those early years, my loyalty made me work harder, convinced that I could right the wrongs and detoxify a toxic environment. My optimism kept me pushing forward, believing that change was just around the corner. But I came to realize that not every situation can be fixed through my sheer determination. These experiences helped me understand the importance of setting boundaries and recognizing when it’s time to walk away—because staying too long in the wrong place can hinder both personal growth and professional success.
Reflection and the determination to live authentically have provided me with a respite of sorts. What do I want in future workplaces? What are my non-negotiables? I have a clearer understanding of when to stay dedicated and when to step away for my well-being. I’ve learned I can’t thrive in a workplace that operates on fear or where “CYA” (Cover Your A@@) is the norm. As Gibaldi and Cusack (2019) point out, “the primary fears of employees are over the opinions of their leaders and the fear of being fired or laid off.” I’ve read enough studies and lived through enough experiences to understand that fear-based environments stifle creativity, growth, and well-being. These experiences haven’t turned me into a pessimist. Instead, they’ve taught me to find a balance—remaining hopeful but grounded in reality. I trust my instincts now more than ever, recognizing when something doesn’t feel right. I remain optimistic and loyal, but with the wisdom to know when it’s time to move on.
Dr. Donna Card-Sessoms
References:
Alhamad, A. H., & Amirah, N. A. (2024). The impact of downsizing on employee loyalty. International Journal of Academic Research in Business and Social Sciences, 14(4), 811–824.
Gibaldi, C., & Cusack, G. (2019). Fear in the Workplace. Review of Business, 39(1), 60-74.
