Life in Stepping Stones

When I was 20 years old, I had my very first, real job. What started as a dream come true quickly turned into a nightmare. I wish I knew at the time how to recognize emotional abuse in the workplace, but unfortunately, I didn’t. Once I was caught up in the dangerous mind game and web of manipulation, it was impossible to recognize the gaslighting and bullying that was taking place.

I hope by sharing my experience below, that it will help anyone struggling with mental abuse be able to recognize it. If you’re hopefully lucky enough to not be in this scenario, maybe you have a friend who needs help. I’m sure this happens more often than most people want to acknowledge, but by sharing, we can help bring awareness to mental abuse in the workplace.

The Beginning and The End of My Editing Dreams

It was over two years since my sister and I had filmed Little Blossom. Life had changed so much. I was newly married to my husband, Gwith, whom I had met shortly after we had finished filming the episodes in late 2009. Over the summer, as we planned our wedding, my parents were co-founding a new entertainment website with an actress and her husband whom we had met years earlier on a cruise.

With the start-up business underway, Gwith and I moved from Denver to Los Angeles to work for the company. I was hired to be the video editor on staff and he was volunteering his help while awaiting his green card status.

Walking into my new career, I was full of passion. I loved video editing ever since I was 10 years old editing our family trip to Canada on Pinnacle Studio. I couldn’t have been more excited. After all, besides music, this was my other dream.

With stars in my eyes, I began an adventure that would end up taking a massive toll on my mind, my body, and my relationships.

And not once, did I see it coming.

The Schmooze Show

Walking into this business, I felt confident in my abilities. I also cherished the friendships I was forming with my new bosses.

Earlier in the summer, we had flown out to Comic Con in San Diego to mingle and learn more about this new venture. My parent’s new partners, I’ll call them George & Julie, treated us like royalty. They introduced us to their celebrity friends, took photos with us on the red carpet, and spent every moment flattering us.

When the business first began, we would all sit around in the office together, eating Chinese food, and brainstorming ideas as a creative team. My input was valued and I felt so respected. Together with our boss, George, we drove around looking at potential sound stages for the company. Afterwards, we would all go back to his and Julie’s house, play with their kids, drink wine, and eat together.

Emotional Abuse in the Workplace and The Games That Play Us

At some point, dinner at their house turned into ranting sessions about my family. George would tell me how amazing I was at editing and how motivated I was. Then, just as quickly, he would tell me how lazy my sister was. I’m ashamed to this day that I couldn’t stand up for her. I was young and this was my first boss. I didn’t want to create waves, even if he was the one actually setting the tide.

Looking back, to some extent, I wanted to hear I was better. Not because I thought she wasn’t awesome (she is the BEST sister in the world), but because I spent my childhood feeling dumb and useless in school, while she thrived. So instead of stopping him, I sat there, being fed these horrible words. He knew this was a vulnerability of mine and he used it to manipulate me.

George thrived on my, and my husband’s, wavering confidence. He could smell that we spent years being told we weren’t good enough from authority figures in our lives.

George spent months continuing this conversation. Almost every moment he complimented us, it would be intertwined with a dig at my sister and how much better we were than her.

Bonding Over Secrets

It was an awkward position to be in. I was the daughter of their silent partners. When my parents were around, they would ask for my input and I felt like one of the team. They would schmooze them about my talents, Gwith’s talents, and my sister’s talents. Then, later, when we were alone, they would go back to criticizing my sister while telling me how valuable I was to the team. They made it feel like a secret that we were bonding over. As if we were the only ones who truly knew them.

Over time, I started to feel though like I was being watched over. The compliments towards me quickly turned into pointed jabs and I felt constantly criticized. I felt like I was walking on eggshells, worried that any wrong move would land me in trouble.

George began to send Gwith out for various tasks, as a tactic to keep us separated. He would make a comment here and there about how important it was that we were independent from each other. He’d tell me that to be a “strong, confident, independent woman”, I shouldn’t have such a reliance and powerful connection with my husband.

The second though that my stress and vulnerability started to show, we would be invited for dinner at their house. Or a casual “fun” lunch during the day.

Trying to Prove My Worth

As I tried to prove my abilities over and over again, I would work 16 hour days, 7 days a week. I would get up to use the bathroom and check the halls to make sure I wasn’t going to get in trouble and be called “lazy” for removing myself from the desk.

Almost daily, I’d sneak downstairs to the mini fridge while my boss was elsewhere to quickly gobble down my lunch. Then, I would second guess if I should eat it at my desk instead. Sometimes I didn’t even think there was time to heat up my food in the microwave so I’d skip lunch all together. Meanwhile, a co-worker, who was a friend of George’s, would get up to take smoke breaks every 10 minutes without a word.

Trapped in Isolation

Once the soundstage was built, my boss and my co-worker would frequently be there and I would be left alone at the office. I’d beg to work from home those days so I wouldn’t be trapped in the office alone, but I was quickly berated for that thought and told I lacked a work ethic. I was treated like I was trying to get out of working, which was far from the case.

On a public holiday, I showed up at 9 am at the office prepared to work, assuming we weren’t closed. When nobody had shown up by noon, including my boss, I called him to see if I could go home. He yelled at me and told me I was irresponsible for trying to leave work early. He told me I had to stay there until the end of the day.

“You’re Not Worthy Enough…Yet”

When my parents would visit the soundstage for a celebrity guest, Julie and George would be eager to let us meet the guest. Gwith and I would be paraded over to them. George would go on and on about how helpful Gwith was to the stage and how talented I was.

However, on the days my parents weren’t there, I wouldn’t be able to even approach the talent. They would be ushered by me quickly. If I did manage to greet them, I would be quickly shun away to work.

At a convention, while mingling with various actors, I picked up a conversation with an actress from my favorite TV show. She loved talking to me and gave me her phone number. When I mentioned it later, George told me to erase it because I wasn’t worthy enough to communicate with any of the actors. He said my time would come, but for now, that was their role, not mine.

The Worthless Workload

As the company hired employees and I was given the title of Senior Video Editor, I edited an array of videos. I studied and learned the Anycaster that was bought for live shows (live shows that never ended up happening).

I sat in the podcast booth recording podcast after podcast. In one podcast, I was given the name Mean Justine by one of the co-hosts, without my approval. I would constantly be mocked on the show for being quiet and uncomfortable when being called out. During Comic Con, I was brought on stage as “Mean Justine” from the podcast and I couldn’t have felt more humiliated.

The other half of my time was spent editing countless web shows and mashup videos, only to find that most of them would never be used. Almost every show we filmed and I edited would never make it to the website. George would always be coming up with the next “great” idea, only to never move forward with it. My time was constantly being wasted on projects that never saw the light of day.

Away From Gaslighting in The Gaslight District

My two proudest achievements were from moments that I wasn’t in that office working. When we traveled to San Diego Comic Con, I played my Buffy Turns 20 Tribute Video for the celebration panel. The video was met with a standing ovation by a huge crowd. Afterwards, James Marsters (Spike from Buffy the Vampire Slayer) gave me a hug and complimented the video, telling me it was the best fan video he’d ever seen.

Big Bang and The Website Boom

The rest of my time at Comic Con was spent in the hotel room, editing panel after panel. Gwith would sweet talk his way into the different panels with our cameraman, record the footage, and rush it back to the hotel for me to edit.

I was so quick that I had the Big Bang Theory panel on Youtube before CBS did, stealing their videos viewership. Our website was booming with traffic. After editing, I would stay up until 3am compressing videos for the website, if need be.

I was exhausted, but I felt like a rockstar for the company and like I had finally proven my worth.

Dismantling Me and My Support System

A month or so later, my wrist developed a ganglion cyst from the endless hours. My wrists couldn’t handle the non-stop editing on a laptop. The more distraught and in pain I was, the more George would tell me how lazy and unmotivated I was. Then, when I’d hit my breaking point, he’d send his wife in to cry and she’d tell me how needed I was for the company.

As my depression mounted, I would spend every day second guessing myself. Was I lazy and unmotivated just like he kept telling me? What was so wrong with me that I couldn’t push through the pain?

“You and Your Husband Are Too Close”

I would cry to Gwith about what was happening. Feeling many of the same things, he would console me. In turn, when we’d arrive at the soundstage, George would sit us down and tell us how we shared too much with each other. He would tell Gwith I was turning him against his in-laws company, and how bad that was for the business. George would insist that we shouldn’t share everything with each other because we were playing off each other, and affecting each other’s attitude at work.

As my anger and sadness grew, George would tell me how much I was letting down my parents. He’d tell me leaving the business would destroy the company and that they wouldn’t understand. Then, he’d finish with how valuable and integral I was to the team. Meanwhile, his wife was calling my dad, filling his head with compliments and stories about how much they cared about me, like a sister, and how they just wanted me to be happy. My dad would, in turn, come to me, and beg me to stay at the company. He would plead how valuable I was, with no knowledge about what was actually happening to me.

Reaching The End of the Road

Eventually, I got to a point where my wrists were so ruined, I couldn’t even pour a box of cereal for myself, or turn a door knob.

I was destroyed, both mentally and physically.

My bosses could sense I was on the verge of quitting, so they made a last ditch effort to spend Thanksgiving with us, like we were all one big happy family.

But it didn’t work.

Days later, drenched in guilt, I told my parents I couldn’t do it anymore, that I was done. I cried, convinced I was a failure and letting down my parents. I was also mourning the “friendship” with George and Julie that I thought I had destroyed.

Gwith continued to manage the soundstage, feeling obligated to stay and help my parents business. During this time, George continued to try to sever the connection between us. Luckily, our love and communication was stronger than that. After Gwith got his green card, he left the soundstage, and started working as a chef again.

Eventually, the lies and manipulations became clear to my parents as they saw George constantly reject or avoid large sponsorship deals, in lieu of more investment funds. And ultimately, I opened up about my experiences at the company and how badly I was treated.

Don’t Let Emotional Abuse Define Your Dreams

Sadly, the experience left me with chronic wrist problems that I will probably suffer from for the rest of my life. My dreams of editing are no longer a possibility. To this day, I have to wear special gloves to type on the computer without triggering pain. And even with these gloves, my wrists only last so long. I can’t even use a laptop anymore, regardless of the gloves.

Hopefully one day I’ll leisurely be able to edit videos of my kids and remember what I loved so much about editing.

It’s hard to separate our passions from our bad experiences but it’s important to reclaim what we once loved.

Are you dealing with emotional abuse in your life?

If you deal with emotional abuse in your own life, please do what you can now to leave this situation. Psychological abuse is every bit as dangerous as physical abuse and it can be hard to recognize and escape. For more information on how to recognize emotional abuse in the workplace or if you need a hotline, please visit these resources:

• Born to Be Boomers: How to Recognize Emotional Abuse at Work
• Cleverism: Signs of Emotional Abuse at Work
• Crisis Hotline for Emotional Abuse

Please continue to follow my journey on Instagram and Facebook. If you enjoyed this exposé, please check out blogs about my other experiences including Confessions from a High School Dropout and The 18 Year Old Boss: Focus on the Journey.