Rooted in herself

Aisyah stood at the catwalk of the oleochemical plant, the evening sun casting long shadows across the maze of pipes and tanks. The hum of pumps and the hiss of steam were her daily soundtrack. She had been here for just over a year—fresh from university, armed with a mechanical engineering degree, and ready to prove herself.

But reality wasn’t like the textbooks.

In her first six months, she had tried to do everything—fix every technical issue, calm every upset operator, win every manager’s approval, and prevent every possible complaint from production. She carried the weight of everyone’s expectations like a backpack full of steel plates.

She worked late, skipped lunch, and even answered calls at 2 a.m. because she thought that was what a “good engineer” should do. But no matter how much she gave, there was always another problem, another criticism, another raised voice.

One Friday, after a tense meeting about a minor shutdown, she sat alone in the control room, staring at the mimic panel. Her mentor, Encik Farid, walked in quietly and placed a mug of coffee in front of her.

“You can’t control how others think, feel, or behave,” he said gently, as if reading her thoughts. “You can only control how you show up… and how you respond.”

Those words hit her harder than any lecture.

She began to notice her patterns. She realised she had been exhausting herself trying to change minds that didn’t want to change, fix moods she didn’t cause, and earn approval from people who gave it sparingly.

So, she made a shift.

She focused on her work—clear reports, well-planned maintenance, and safety checks done with precision. She stopped taking every sharp word personally. When operators vented, she listened without absorbing the negativity. When management made last-minute demands, she responded with solutions, not stress.

The plant didn’t suddenly become easy. But she became steady.

Her anxiety lessened. She slept better. The arguments faded. And slowly, people started to respect her—not because she tried to please them, but because she stood firm in her role, grounded and professional.

Months later, during an audit, the lead inspector praised her department for its maintenance records. Her manager gave her a rare smile.

Walking back through the plant, with the scent of chemicals in the air and the low rumble of machinery around her, Aisyah felt lighter than she had in months.

She finally understood: she was not responsible for fixing everything. She was responsible for staying rooted in herself. And that was enough.

---