"Don't let people have something they can use against you, okay?" My supervisor said it calmly, without any urgency, just matter-of-factly. The words seemed like simple advice, yet they stirred something inside me.
Since entering the workplace, this phrase has continuously reappeared in different forms—whispered in my ear. A former supervisor once told me, "Learn to protect yourself." These comments all point to how important it is to handle things with "finesse" and "tact" in the workplace.
I'm someone who tends to be impatient and speaks casually without much discretion—a flaw I've had since childhood. Some call it being easygoing, others might say it's rude. My friends in university used to say this about me, sometimes seriously and sometimes jokingly. To this day, I haven't really reflected deeply on it, but I am slowly adjusting.
Maybe because I don't want to distance myself from others, I tend to treat most people with the same casual attitude. Of course, when it comes to supervisors, seniors, or people I'm less familiar with, I still speak to them with respect.
But my senior pointed out that when I'm pressed for time, my speech becomes hurried, making it seem like I want to end the conversation quickly. People who know me understand my personality, but to those unfamiliar with me, it comes across as disrespectful.
After thinking about it later, I realized this is what growing up means: you can want to be yourself, but you can't disregard how others feel. Continuing to be entirely selfish isn't acceptable—it's not that we have to force ourselves to become worldly and jaded, but rather we need to understand that gentleness is a form of maturity.
We can hold onto our original passion and good intentions, but we can't keep acting like children, expecting people to indulge us and thinking we'll get candy if we keep fussing about it. We can be innocent, but we can't be childishly naive, thinking the world owes us something.
Maybe when we reach the point where we can treat others with gentleness while standing firm in our own convictions, when this skill becomes as natural as flowing clouds and water—when it no longer feels difficult or troubling—that will be our new growth and breakthrough.
