“The only way to deal with an unfree world is to become so absolutely free that your very existence is an act of rebellion.”
― Albert Camus
Life is not fair. It’s unfair to everyone, and we all face our own battles in this journey called life. Reflecting on the past thirty-seven years, my life has been full of adventures, both physical and spiritual. Each phase of my life has had its defining moments—some marked by incredible triumphs, others by crushing setbacks.
Looking back on November 2023, it stands out as a month of several turning points. It was a time when I chose to push back against the traditional path I had been following, and also against those who had mistreated me. It was a month of defeat, but also a month of reclaiming my life. This is the story of a man who faced a massive setback, but in doing so, rediscovered his passion for life.
Turning Point 1 – The toxic boomer:
If you’ve been keeping up with my blog, you can probably guess who I’m talking about. Yep, that guy. The one who turned a casual meetup into a one-man horror show with his unhinged outburst. It all started when I made a passing comment about something less-than-perfect in Japan, which apparently triggered the inner nationalist in him. He interrupted me with a scream that could’ve woken the dead. His face was a twisted mess of pain, horror, and what I can only assume were years of unresolved issues. The organizer sitting next to him didn’t just flinch—she screamed too. Twice.
And the story didn’t end there. Despite feeling an intense urge to confront him, I held back. His unpredictable behavior made me wary, so I chose not to interact with him, even though every instinct within me wanted to fight back. I swallowed my frustration. The organizer, an Australian lady, witnessed the entire situation but did nothing. She saw his toxic behavior disrupt the entire meetup experience, and I was the one left in a difficult position. The old man kept a watchful eye on me, which made the atmosphere even more uncomfortable. It felt as though he dominated the entire group dynamic.
When I was leaving, I paid the attendance fee to the organizer, and she acted awkwardly, clearly aware of what had transpired but still chose not to address it.
A week later, I checked the group’s upcoming events and saw that the same toxic old man was listed as a participant for the next few weeks, alongside the organizer. Perhaps he’s lonely and has nowhere else to go, so the meetup group serves as his outlet, where he feels compelled to “teach” Japanese culture to foreigners who, frankly, aren’t particularly eager to learn from him.
I recall one incident where he targeted a young German man. Despite the fact that the German didn’t understand any Japanese, the old man continued to yell in Japanese, trying to explain Bushido. It was a painfully awkward moment for everyone involved.
Why did he personally attack me?
It was obvious. The group was meant to be about learning languages—a space where foreigners could practice Japanese, and Japanese participants could improve their English. But then this toxic man stepped in, determined to impose his own mission of teaching Japanese language and culture to the foreigners, even though no one had asked for it.
For him, it seemed like a personal crusade, and he likely didn’t appreciate the idea of other Japanese men joining the group, especially younger ones who were fluent in English, like myself. So, he targeted me and directed his disruptive outburst at me.
Confront the Unspoken: Addressing What Everyone Sees but Fears to Acknowledge
You can’t always ignore the elephant in the room. At that moment, everyone at the table saw what was happening, but no one addressed the obvious problem. Why didn’t anyone speak up, especially the organizer? She saw it. She was sitting right next to him, and she was clearly affected, yet she did nothing. When something uncomfortable happens, it must be addressed. You can’t just leave it unresolved.
Her group continued to accept him as a regular member after that unfortunate incident. But why? Was she afraid to confront the issue as the organizer? Was she worried about possible retaliation if she removed him? Or did she simply not see it as a problem?
I don’t know. But what I do know is that it’s wrong to side with toxicity. It’s wrong to allow a troublemaker to keep attending events. And most importantly, it’s wrong to silence the young when they want to have open conversations about social issues.
Perhaps I’m mistaken, but from everyone’s perspective, it was clear that he was toxic and problematic. I was deeply disappointed by the organizer and the group as a whole.
My Decision for The turning point 1:
So, I didn’t just stop attending the group—I left it entirely. It’s foolish to stick with a group after such events. How could I attend another meetup, forcing a fake smile as if nothing had happened? I can’t, and I won’t! I’m not a loser.
Instead, I decided to create my own group. If you’ve been following my blog, you might already know that I started my own meetup group. It costs me $60 every six months, but it’s worth every penny.
And, in many ways, it’s been a success! Instead of following someone else’s rules, I now have the freedom to create events that reflect my style. Most importantly, if someone makes others uncomfortable, I have the power to remove them from the group. In fact, I’ve already removed one attendee who caused trouble.
For our third event, we took a trip to Enoshima Island, and everyone had a fantastic time. We truly enjoyed the experience.
Although I faced some very negative situations in November, they pushed me to create my own meetup group—a group that represents my style. In a way, it was my response to her meetup!
Turning Point 2 – The toxic colleague:
“Our company probably doesn’t want you to leave…” That’s what my ex-supervisor told me during a Slack call last November. I trusted him, so I confided that I was interviewing for other roles. Even though I officially quit my job this year, I had already made up my mind to leave the company by last November.
My decision wasn’t solely because of my supervisor, although he might have played a part. The real issue was a toxic colleague—let’s call him Shain. Shain had a personality that was difficult to deal with, possibly even disordered. While only a professional could make such a diagnosis, it was obvious to me that his behavior was overwhelming and uncomfortable.
Shain had a habit of intruding into others’ personal spaces and making loud, unsettling comments. He seemed somewhat aware of his behavior; he once mentioned that his previous boss had bluntly told him he wasn’t fit to be a responsible member of society.
I struggled to get along with this toxic individual and had numerous issues with him, something my ex-supervisor was fully aware of.
Last year, Shain’s problematic behavior became almost unavoidable. I remember a time when I was working on shell scripting tasks and asked my supervisor a question. Shain abruptly inserted himself into the conversation, suddenly raging at me with, “What the fuck do you want to accomplish?!” in a hostile tone. The irony was that when Shain was later assigned shell scripting tasks, he had no clue what to do and ended up asking for my help. Needless to say, I didn’t assist him.
His hostile behavior continued for months, right up until the end of the year. It was an incredibly challenging experience, one that only solidified my decision to leave.
Challenging days:
As I mentioned in a previous post, over the past four years, I worked with Java and shell script at my previous job. My employer was a staffing company, and I was assigned to work as an engineer at a client’s office.
Occasionally, we would receive feedback from our clients. Of the three team members, I was the only one who received a negative assessment, which our manager announced during a Zoom meeting. Shain, of course, was present and heard it all.
Predictably, Shain used this negative assessment as fuel to justify even more hostile behavior towards me. However, the reason for the negative feedback was unfair. I had been assigned to write testing code for a program built by someone else—a program that was consistently problematic. The issues stemmed from the program itself, not my testing code.
I know this might sound like an excuse, but the situation truly wasn’t fair. They didn’t acknowledge the other work I contributed to the project, including shell scripting tasks that I was the only one capable of completing. Yet, they overlooked this and focused solely on my negative points, using them as a basis for further harassment.
Unfortunately, this wasn’t the first time I found myself in a difficult position, becoming the target of hostile bullying.
My manager, my company, my supervisor, and Shain—all of them contributed to a toxic environment, which ultimately led me to start interviewing with other companies.
My Decision for Turning point 2:
At my previous company, my ex-manager told me I wasn’t good at Java, which made me question my abilities. But really? I built my own Android portfolio in Java, and my current employer saw that and decided to hire me. That was a true, hands-on experience. In a way, those doubts pushed me to explore other options. Just like doctors, we sometimes need a second opinion—someone who recognizes our potential, values our skills, and, most importantly, sees our portfolio.
At my previous company, no one took the time to look at my portfolio. They didn’t even try to see my potential. From the start, I never planned to stay with them forever. My ex-supervisor might have expected me to stick around long-term, but it was just a small staffing company. Why should I devote my life to them?
That realization marked a turning point for me.
Android all the way:
As I mentioned before, I’ve always aspired to be an Android app developer. To pursue this goal, I built Android app portfolios in both Java and Kotlin. At one point, my ex-manager told me I wasn’t good at Java, despite not knowing anything about programming languages himself. He may have misjudged my skills, but I don’t care about his assessment anymore.
I want to be an Android specialist, and I won’t let anyone take that goal away from me. I’m not living my life to meet someone else’s expectations—this is my life, and I’ll pave my own path, in my own way.
Conclusion:
November 2023 was a month of personal defeats, but these experiences also propelled me forward to carve my own path. Traveling to Singapore was one of those turning points. Becoming an Android developer had been a long-term goal, and starting my own meetup group was a refreshing and empowering experience.
Life is much shorter than we often realize, and we must savor every moment of it. We should never let anyone take away our right to pursue freedom, happiness, and joy. This is your life. This is our life.
It’s your turn:
Just like in my case, negative experiences aren’t entirely bad. They can pave the way for something unexpected, something you might never have imagined.