Beyond the Surface: Understanding and Addressing Microaggressions

You are in a team meeting where someone makes a casual comment about how people from “tier 2 cities” often struggle with client communications.

You pause for a moment because you’re from one. You speak up, lightly: “That’s a bit of a generalization, don’t you think?”

They laugh, “Don’t be so sensitive. It wasn’t about you.”
But it feels like it was. You brush it off at the moment, but that sentence and the easy dismissal that followed stays with you long after the meeting ends.

Later that week, you’re hosting dinner for some visiting relatives. You have been in the kitchen most of the evening - chopping, stirring, plating, and you enjoy it. Cooking calms you.
As you bring out the last dish and sit down, a relative grins and says loud enough for everyone to hear: “Wah, looks like your wife’s trained you well! The apron really suits you.”
There’s laughter around the table.

You smile, because that’s easier than explaining. But a part of you wonders why is care, effort or partnership something to be joked about when a man does it?

These moments are small. But they’re not insignificant.

They’re microaggressions - the subtle digs, dismissals or slights that chip away at our sense of worth and belonging, especially in spaces that are supposed to feel professional, respectful and safe. Often unintentional, usually brushed off but never without impact.

This is the third article in our series on Building Psychological Safety Through Communication. We’ve spoken about the invisible weight language carries and how our words often mirror the deeper culture of a team. And now, we’re looking at the words we tend to overlook — the ones that feel too minor to matter, but over time, leave the deepest marks.

Most working professionals are used to brushing things off.
“Don’t take it personally.”
“They didn’t mean it.”
“You’re being too sensitive.”

But here’s what we have seen across conversations, coaching sessions, workshops and everyday team dynamics: it’s rarely about being too sensitive.
It’s about being too exhausted from constantly second-guessing, adjusting and brushing things off that shouldn’t have been said in the first place.

It’s not about one comment or one moment. These things add up and over time, they start to tell a story. A story that says: 

  • You don’t fully belong here.
  • You're not being taken seriously.
  • You're being seen through a lens that has nothing to do with who you are.

And when those patterns show up again and again - at work, at home, in everyday conversations; they don’t just hurt in the moment, they linger.

What Do Microaggressions Look Like?

They aren’t always obvious. They rarely come with raised voices or outright insults. In fact, they often come with a smile. But that’s what makes them hard to name and even harder to confront. Here are some common examples:
  • At work:
“You speak such good English!”
Translation: I didn’t expect you to.

  • In meetings:
“Asha, let’s ask someone more experienced to explain this to us.”
To the woman who’s been in the team longer than the speaker.

  • On a team outing:
    “You people are always so spicy and loud.”
    A joke. But also, it's a stereotype!
  • At home:
“She works, so obviously the house is a mess.”
A working women hear this from an aunt who visited her for the weekend.

  • In everyday conversations:
“You don’t look like a South Indian.”
As if there’s the right way to look.

On their own, these moments might seem easy to brush off. But when they keep happening, they start to pile up like a background noise you are tired of tuning out. And that still drains you without you even realizing it.

What’s the real harm in a poorly chosen joke or a lazy stereotype?

Let’s turn it around: What’s the cost of never fully relaxing in a team meeting? Of rehearsing your reactions before sharing an idea? Of smiling when you’d rather correct someone. All of it just because you don’t want to seem “difficult”?

So, what can be the cost of these “Small” Things? The emotional toll might not be visible right away, but it runs deep. Over time:

  • Trust starts to fade.
  • People stop fully engaging.
  • Some silently pull back - from conversations, from teams, from showing up as themselves.
Over time, microaggressions don’t just wear down individuals - they damage the whole team. They change how people show up, what they hold back and whether they feel safe to speak up. And then, it seeps into the culture, into collaboration and yes - into the quality of work that gets done.

“Small shifts in awareness can lead to big changes in how we treat each other.”

So what can we actually do? Here’s how we can handle them - whether you’re at the receiving end, witnessing it happen or realizing you have said something hurtful.

When it happens to you

You’re presenting an idea in a meeting when someone says, “Oh wow, didn’t expect that level of analysis from someone so early in their career.”

What you might feel:
Dismissed. Frustrated. Unsure whether to react or let it go.

Try this:
  • Take a breath. Respond with curiosity, not confrontation.
  • You could say, “I’m glad the analysis came through clearly - just curious, what made it surprising?”
  • Or gently point it out: “I know that wasn’t meant to be dismissive, but it came across that way.”
It acknowledges impact without escalating conflict. You stay in control of the moment and open a door for learning.

When you witness it

A colleague jokes during a team call: “Let’s not ask Vaibhav about numbers, he’s the creative one.” Laughter follows, but Vaibhav looks visibly uncomfortable.

What you might feel:
Awkward. Unsure if it’s your place to say something.

Try this:

  • Interrupt the bias gently: “Actually, Vaibhav’s insights from last quarter’s report were really sharp.”
  • After the meeting, check in with Vaibhav: “I noticed that comment - I just wanted to say I value the way you think across the board.”
You’re reinforcing respect without shaming anyone publicly. And by following up privately, you show quiet allyship - something people will remember and always respect.

When you realize you said it

In a casual chat before a meeting, you say to a colleague who’s returned from maternity leave,
“Wow, you’re already back? That was fast - who’s taking care of the baby?” She answers politely, but the smile doesn’t quite reach her eyes. The conversation moves on, but something about it stays with you.

What you might feel:
A bit uneasy. You didn’t mean anything wrong — but now you’re wondering if it sounded like a judgment.
Try this:
  • Acknowledge it later, simply and sincerely: “Hey, earlier I asked about your baby - I realize now that might’ve come across as intrusive or loaded. I’m sorry if it did.”
  • Then reflect: Would I have asked a new father that? What assumption was I making about roles or priorities?
It keeps trust intact. Owning it shows maturity and earns more respect than pretending nothing ever happened.

We all have blind spots. Every single one of us - including you, including me.

At some point, we’ve all said things that we regret. We’ve all laughed along when we should’ve spoken up. But awareness brings growth, not guilt.

So, the next time someone gently points out something you said - pause before defending. Listen. Reflect. Thank them. They’re doing something brave.

And if you’re the one carrying the weight of microaggressions - you’re not imagining it. You’re not overreacting. And you don’t have to carry it alone – Call it out!

It’s not always the loud, obvious moments that leave the deepest marks. More often, it’s the quiet ones — the ones that slip unnoticed, unchecked and slowly settle in.

Microaggression isn’t always intentional but it is always impactful. And when left unaddressed, they don’t just affect individual confidence — they shape the emotional undercurrent of entire teams and lives. They dictate who speaks up, who stays silent and who silently starts to shrink away.

But now that we’ve named them, we’re no longer powerless. Because change doesn’t begin with grand gestures. It begins in the in-between. In the pause before a comment. In the courage to say, “That didn’t land well.” In the humility to reflect, repair and do better.

No, we won’t always get it right. But when we choose awareness over autopilot, and respect over routine, we begin to build something bigger — cultures of care, workplaces where voices don’t just get heard but are valued, personal choices where contribution isn’t boxed into gender roles and teams where people feel they truly belong.

And isn’t that what we all want — not just to fit in but to feel safe, seen and respected?

That’s not too sensitive. That’s human.

Ishita Mukherjee

 Integrity-Driven Growth Strategist | Creative Marketing Innovator | Reliable Problem-Solver | Committed to Continuous Learning & Excellence