Dear Awkward: Help! My Co-Worker Scares Me!

Dear Awkward,

I work at a large Fortune 500 company. Recently one of my coworkers, Carlos, was promoted and now leads a small team. Since the promotion, Carlos has been trying to assert his new authority—even over people, like me, who don’t work for him.

For example, in meetings with senior executives, he mansplained the process I needed to follow to complete a program. It was embarrassing. I have a decade of experience putting together these programs; Carlos has zero.

Next, he announced to our organization that he was expanding my role. He didn’t consult with me, or my boss, or my boss’ boss on this before making the announcement.

I took Carlos aside privately, and calmly stated that if we are to continue working together productively, he needed to stop.

Carlos responded by becoming snarly and aggressive. He punched the wall, and stormed out of the building. He didn’t come back to work that day or the next.

Frankly, I find the guy scary and unpredictable. I don’t want to be in a room alone with him.

How do I show Christ’s love to Carlos when I really don’t feel like it? Being nice didn’t work. Being direct didn’t work. I wish I could stay far, far away from him, but I don’t think that’s possible.

Not a Doormat

Years ago, someone I could not stay far, far away from made a serious threat that left me with nightmares. One night I dreamt that person—I’ll call them A—grabbing a kitchen knife and coming after me and people I loved.

If someone frightens you, (and I agree—Carlos is frightening) I think you must take that feeling seriously. In my case, I got help from a therapist. She helped me plan how to speak to A about the threat and how their behavior had inspired new, safer boundaries. When I asked A to speak, I insisted on having a therapist present for our conversation.

Knowing I would not be alone with A during that fraught conversation helped me sleep better at night. Having an impartial party there to guide the conversation also helped. Establishing strict boundaries wasn’t fun or pleasant, but afterwards, I felt about ten thousand pounds lighter.

So, my first stage of advice: absolutely stay as far away from Carlos as you humanly can. Document the heck out of everything that has happened so far. Finally: get the HR department of your large company to make staying away from Carlos part of your job description.

Given how erratic Carlos sounds, and that he’s not showing up for work, I’d be surprised if you don’t get taken seriously. If you’re ignored, then your organization is just as scary as Carlos, and you need to look for a new job.

Is doing all of the above nice? Personally, I’m not a huge fan of niceness, which is usually more about avoiding conflict than it is about loving well.

But love—yeah, love is tricky.

Doormat, I was so pissed off at A. Frightened, yes, but also enraged. I was angry that I lost sleep, angry that they’d smeared a painful, messy threat all over me, angry that this was only one of the many crappy things this person had done. I felt violated.

Yet Jesus says we are to love our enemies. To have compassion on them. To forgive.

I sat in therapy and in prayer with my anger. I still do. Eventually, I realized that as awful as it is to be threatened by a Carlos, it is much better than being Carlos.

The more I’ve been around difficult people, the more I realize they are basically grown-up toddlers. On my best days, that makes truly me sad for them.

First, because it means that when they were toddlers, their adults weren’t helping them learn real coping skills. Now they’re full-grown adults with the needs and emotional skills of a toddler. No one is coming to hug them and help them take a nap. Nor do they have the resources to deal with their pain.

I don’t envy Carlos a bit. Living in his head sounds awful.

As entitled and maddening as difficult people are, there is real pain behind their bluster. If you imagine what might have stunted Carlos’ growth, I think you’ll find that praying for him to find wholeness comes more easily. The world is a harsh place. Some people learn the wrong lessons, and pay for it with frustrated, chaotic, and unhappy lives.

Feel your fear. Feel your anger. But remember that as awful as Carlos is, he is probably doing his best in a bewildering, dark life. It’s awful for him that his best is this bad.

Finally, remember that Christ’s love is wonderful not because it’s nice, but because it’s fierce. Living with generous love is the most badass ninja move in the book. No one can take loving dignity away from you, no matter how many walls they punch. And over time, loving well sows seeds of wisdom, perseverance, maturity and peace in your heart–and the lives of everyone you know.

In the end, the Carloses of the world have no real power, because living with love is always its own reward.