What started as a professional work relationship slowly turned into something much more complicated. At the beginning, I saw my colleague as a seasoned logistical wizard. They had an incredible ability to organize chaos, solve problems quickly, and keep complicated productions moving forward. In an industry where things change by the minute, that kind of skill is rare. I admired it, and in many ways I learned a lot just by watching how they handled pressure. At first, the relationship was purely professional and even exciting. I was working alongside someone experienced, someone who seemed to know exactly how to navigate the unpredictable world of production.
But the more time I spent around them, the more I started to notice things that didn’t quite sit right with me. Beneath the competence and fast thinking was a pattern of behavior that felt increasingly unstable. There was a dependency on control and an undercurrent of disorder that followed them from project to project. At first, I brushed it off as stress. Production environments are intense, deadlines are tight, and tempers can flare. I told myself it was normal.
Over the next few years, I ended up working with them on roughly a dozen projects. Each one brought new challenges, new locations, and new opportunities. Traveling alone was something I felt incredibly grateful for. I got to see places I would not have otherwise visited, meet talented people, and gain hands-on experience that pushed my career forward. Because of those benefits, I found myself ignoring signs that, in hindsight, were impossible to miss.
There were moments of obvious misconduct. Situations that should have been addressed or corrected simply weren’t. I watched scenes of workplace drama unfold repeatedly with arguments, tension, and sometimes outright harassment. HR issues would arise and then quietly disappear without any real resolution. People would talk about it privately but rarely confront it directly. At the time, I convinced myself that this was just how things worked in high-pressure environments. I rationalized staying because the work was good, the pay was solid, and the projects themselves were exciting. But over time, something inside me started to shift.
With every project during those years, I was gaining more knowledge and confidence in my own abilities. I wasn’t the same person I had been when we first started working together. I was learning how to run a set, how to manage logistics myself, and how to communicate with teams in a way that kept things running smoothly. My standards were evolving. My tolerance for unnecessary chaos and unkind behavior was shrinking. Meanwhile, my colleague seemed to remain exactly the same.
The patterns never changed. The same conflicts repeated themselves, the same issues resurfaced, and the same lack of accountability continued. It was like watching someone stuck in a loop while everyone else around them slowly moved forward. What I had once interpreted as brilliance mixed with stress started to look more like a refusal to grow or self-reflect. The last show we worked on together became my tipping point.
By that time, I had seen enough to recognize the cycle clearly. The drama felt heavier than before, the tension more exhausting. I watched yet another round of conflict unfold, along with behavior that crossed professional lines. Once again, there were whispers about complaints, HR concerns, and interpersonal issues that should have had consequences but somehow didn’t. Standing there, witnessing it all again, I had a moment of clarity. I realized that they had stayed exactly the same while I had grown.
That realization changed everything. My perspective had shifted enough that I could finally see the situation for what it was. The skills and opportunities I once valued were no longer enough to justify the environment that came with them. No amount of travel or paychecks could outweigh the constant stress, confusion, and emotional drain of working closely with someone who consistently treated people poorly. I physically and mentally decided it was time to move on and it was mutual.
I wasn’t hired back and that hurt my ego. Just like you see in the movies though, I got offered and accepted another gig. This project offered higher pay and much more pleasant people! It felt almost like a test, like the universe asking if I would fall back into the same pattern or finally choose something different. But the clarity I felt in that moment stayed with me.
Sometimes I look back at photos from over five years ago, from the beginning of that chapter. What strikes me is that I look almost exactly the same. Maybe a little older, maybe a little wiser, but largely unchanged on the surface. When I look at photos of my colleague, though, the difference is much more noticeable. The stress they carry seems etched into them. They look weighed down by the very chaos they helped create. It’s a strange kind of reminder of how environments and attitudes affect people.
Despite everything, I don’t regret the experience. In fact, I’m genuinely grateful for many parts of it. The projects themselves were meaningful stepping stones in my career. The travel opened my eyes to new places and cultures. Most importantly, I met incredible people along the way such as crew members, collaborators, and friends who made those experiences worthwhile. Those relationships are the real takeaway.
But I’ve also learned that gratitude doesn’t mean you have to tolerate unhealthy dynamics forever. At some point, growth requires stepping away from situations that no longer align with who you’ve become.
Today, I feel confident in my ability to run a set and manage the complexities that once seemed overwhelming. I trust my instincts much more than I used to. The biggest lesson I’ve taken from those years is simple but powerful: be more aware, and walk away from toxic people sooner.
Work is a huge part of life, and the people you surround yourself with matter. The environments you choose shape not only your career but also your mental and emotional well-being. I want to work with people I respect and enjoy being around. These people I would happily sit down and have lunch with.
But strangely enough, I’m still grateful for the experience. Without it, I might not have learned the value of choosing healthier collaborations or recognizing the moment when it’s time to move on. If something feels wrong, I no longer ignore it in the name of opportunity.
