“I’ve worked in the food service industry since I was 19, and I’ve experienced bullying at nearly every job. It’s isolating — especially when managers are either bullies or completely indifferent. I’ve always spoken up about injustice, but in many restaurants, standing for something just makes you a target.
In my first job, I was a top-performing host, but I wasn’t promoted because people thought I was “weird.” One coworker even told me people must either love or hate me. That comment stuck with me because I’ve often been treated with cruelty despite being kind and competent. During this time, I was also living in a foster home where I wasn’t safe, which made coping at work even harder.
My second restaurant job was toxic for everyone. We joked it had a “vortex” that sucked out your soul. There was constant harassment, gossip, and bullying—especially from men who were protected by women seeking their approval. I was mocked, excluded, and judged for my body. I left after confronting someone who insulted me and being punished for it, while others drank on the job and faced no consequences.
Afterward, I tried a corporate restaurant where I was bullied for my clothes and called a “gremlin” in front of the team. Even years later, people from that job continued to harass me in public. It made me afraid to go to bars or social spaces, always wondering who might have heard lies about me.
Then I joined a Japanese restaurant I was excited about. But the assistant GM was inappropriate—touching women’s waists, trash-talking his wife, and pressuring me to work on days I needed off for medical reasons. A dishwasher harassed me after I rejected him, and eventually, I left after confronting the manager and realizing others were silently suffering the same treatment.
At another job, I was promoted quickly, but jealousy and backstabbing intensified. I was bullied for sticking up for a woman manager and started facing public humiliation. I eventually left, along with others, after the company mishandled our pay.
Now I’m at a new place, and I just survived another mobbing. It started with subtle classism—people assuming I was less than. I was called stupid, mocked for not having a family, and excluded. I stood up for myself and others again, and although the managers say they’re supporting me, I feel like I’m still at risk—of losing my job, my home, and being further isolated.
Through it all, the one thing that brings me peace is the kindness I show to people others mistreat—especially unhoused guests. They treat me with respect now, and I believe that means I must be doing something right.
I don’t understand why people act this way—but I’m still here. And I’m still fighting.”