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The Moment I Realised I Was the Last to Know—And Why It Made Me Smile

Some moments at work stick with you, not because they’re dramatic, but because they shift your perspective in a way you didn’t expect.

A routine chat in the depot led to a revelation that caught me off guard, not in a bad way, just in a how did I miss that? kind of way. But as the moment settled, so did something else: a quiet happiness, not just for my colleague, but for the kind of workplace where being yourself isn’t a big deal, it’s just normal.

Note: In this job, we’re trained to see things coming, anticipate the unexpected, spot trouble before it happens, always keep our eyes open. And yet, somehow, I completely missed this one. No hazards, no warning signs, just a colleague casually dropping news that had apparently been sitting at the bus stop for ages while I drove right past it. 


A Workplace Where Being Yourself Is Normal

There’s a rhythm to our mornings as bus drivers. A nod here, a raised coffee cup there, a language of silent camaraderie before the first passengers of the day step aboard. Some colleagues keep to themselves, others are chatterboxes, and then there are those who sit somewhere in between, like this colleague. Reliable, steady, always there, always with that same dry joke about “making great time” as if traffic ever allowed such a thing.

But today, they were different.

A white door opening in a seamless white room, symbolising openness, new beginnings, and a welcoming sense of possibility.

They walked into the depot with a lightness I hadn’t seen before. Not the usual weariness of a driver about to tackle the city’s chaos, but something else, something brighter. Their uniform, usually thrown on with the casual indifference of someone who’s seen too many early starts, was crisp. Their whole posture had shifted, as if they were carrying less weight on their shoulders.

We were going over some admin work, schedules, shift swaps, the usual paperwork that no driver enjoys but we all have to deal with. A few others were in the room too, depot chatter filling the background. I was half-listening, focused on the conversation in front of me, until my colleague said something that made my brain stall for a second.

I looked up. Wait… what?

I glanced around. No one else seemed particularly surprised. A few nods, a few smiles, normal, casual, as if this wasn’t news at all. Because, as it turned out, it wasn’t.

It was just me who didn’t know.

And that threw me for a moment, not in a bad way, just in a huh, never would’ve guessed kind of way. We’d worked together long enough to share plenty of shifts, plenty of laughs, plenty of grumbles about the job. I thought I had a decent read on them. And yet, somehow, I’d never put two and two together. Not that it mattered, of course. But still, how did I miss that?

That thought flickered for all of a second before something much bigger took over, an instant, almost ridiculous sense of happiness. The kind that bubbles up fast, pushing out words before your brain has fully caught up.

Really?" I said, grinning, feeling like I'd walked into a conversation halfway through but was already enjoying the ending. 

My colleague nodded, and there it was, that unmistakable look of someone who no longer had to weigh their words, who could just be.

And I got it. This wasn’t a confession, or an announcement. It wasn’t a big moment for them, just another conversation in a workplace where they finally felt at ease. The big moment, it seemed, had happened long before this. I was simply late to the party.

And that? That was something worth celebrating.

It also made me realise something else. If they could be open, if the people around us could take it in stride, if I could process it in my own time and land on nothing but happiness, then this was the kind of workplace where people could just be themselves. And in a way, that made me feel more at ease too. Part of something bigger than just the job.

A team. A place where people didn’t have to hide.

The road doesn’t change, but sometimes, the way we travel it does. And for them, that road had never looked brighter. For me, it felt just a little more open too.

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