I’ve noticed a pattern in toxic workplaces (and honestly, in other group settings like church too). It’s not always the loud, obvious bullying that wears you down. Sometimes it’s the performative exclusion — where people pretend to include you just enough to look good, while still making sure you feel left out.
It’s exclusion dressed up in politeness. And I know it all too well.
The Lunch Invite Games
At my current job, it started with lunch invites. Or rather — the lack of them. Plans would be made out loud in the office, orchestrated by the workplace bully I call Negative Nag, and I’d be conveniently left out. I could hear the plans being made, but no invite ever came my way.
When it became too obvious that their behavior could be seen as exclusionary, the invites suddenly appeared. But here’s the catch: they’d set the lunch dates on days they knew I wouldn’t be in the office.
And on the rare occasion I did show up? Negative Nag completely unraveled. She couldn’t even look at me. She stacked things in front of herself like a physical barrier, trying to make sure I didn’t sit near her. She put on a façade of being the “bigger person,” acting like she was welcoming, but the energy was so fake it was laughable. The whole thing was just optics.
The Hugger Who Weaponized Affection
It reminded me of a previous job, where one coworker loved hugging everyone. I don’t do hugs at work. It’s a boundary I set because I like to keep things professional and I don’t want people all up in my personal space.
The coworker didn’t take it well. Instead of respecting my boundary, he made a performance out of hugging everyone but me – always in my presence. Every time he did it, the message was clear: You don’t belong.
It was childish. But it was also revealing. Performative exclusion thrives on making you look like the odd one out, the “difficult” one, when really you’re just holding boundaries.
Why People Do This
The truth is, performative exclusion is about control.
- They want the optics of being kind and inclusive without actually doing the work of being kind or inclusive.
- They want the upper hand of deciding who’s in and who’s out.
- They want to punish you for not conforming, for daring to be different, or for questioning the groupthink.
- And most of all, they want to control the narrative. “We invited her – she just never comes.” That’s the line they want to be able to use, even if the invites are fake to begin with. In fact, I overheard Negative Nag say this to the Triangulated Flying Monkey … “We tried … but her schedule always creates conflicts.” When they could have invited me on the day I’m actually present.
How I Handle It Now
Here’s the thing: I don’t play the game anymore.
- I stop gaslighting myself into thinking I’m imagining it. Once you name performative exclusion for what it is, it loses some of its sting.
- I decline the fake invites. If the intention isn’t genuine, why spend my energy showing up to play their script?
- I stick to my boundaries. The no-hug situation is the perfect example. My “no” is still a no, whether someone tries to shame me for it or not.
- Most importantly, I detach from the optics. I don’t care anymore about how it looks. I care about how it is.
Final Thought
Performative exclusion is more insidious than outright rejection because it’s built to confuse you. It’s meant to leave you second-guessing: Am I being excluded, or am I just sensitive?
But once you recognize the tactic, the fog clears. You realize it was never about you being unworthy of inclusion. It was about them needing to perform control.
And the antidote? Refusing to play along. Staying rooted in who you are. Setting your boundaries and keeping them. Because the truth is, I’m not here to audition for acceptance.
I’m here to live authentically — whether they like it or not.
My Voice Unchained 