My name is Kevin, I’m 36 years old, and I live in Des Moines, Iowa. I work in a mid-sized company where recognition is rare enough that when it happens, you remember it. That’s why the moment still stands out so clearly. During a quarterly meeting, my boss called my name in front of everyone. He thanked me for leading a difficult project, mentioned my dedication, and said my work “set the standard.” People clapped. A few coworkers smiled at me on their way out. For the rest of the day, I felt lighter than I had in months. That feeling didn’t survive the week. Two days later, my boss asked me to step into his office. The door closed softly behind us. His tone shifted immediately. He said he was concerned about my “attitude.” That I wasn’t collaborative enough. That I made others feel insecure. None of this had ever been mentioned before.
I was confused and asked for examples. He didn’t have any—just impressions. Vague comments from unnamed people. He said public praise was one thing, but privately, I “needed work.” He suggested I be more careful, less visible, less confident. From that point on, my job became a balancing act. In meetings, he praised my output. In private, he criticized my tone, my pacing, my personality. If I asked for clarification, he said I was being defensive. If I stayed quiet, he said I lacked initiative. I started dreading one-on-ones. I second-guessed emails. I replayed conversations in my head at night, wondering how I’d misstepped. My confidence eroded quietly, even as my performance stayed strong.
The worst part was the contradiction. To the team, I was an example. Behind closed doors, I was a problem to be fixed. It took me months to realize what was happening. The praise wasn’t meant to lift me—it was meant to control the narrative. As long as he framed me publicly, he could reshape me privately. And because no one else saw that version of him, I started doubting myself instead. I eventually documented everything. Feedback. Dates. Exact words. I didn’t confront him. I just stopped internalizing it. A few months later, I transferred teams. My new manager has never once praised me in public and criticized me in private. When she gives feedback, it matches what she says out loud. That consistency feels like respect. I didn’t leave because I couldn’t handle criticism. I left because praise shouldn’t come with a private price tag.
