“I Never Said That.” — How I Dealt with a Boss Who Insisted
This isn’t a “viral” story.
But it’s the kind of thing that can happen in any workplace—quietly, casually, and then it stays with you.
I. Second-year Assistant Manager at a 20-person company
There’s one clear advantage to working at a small company:
you get hands-on experience fast, and you grow fast.
By my second year as an assistant manager, I was already negotiating with overseas distributors— handling consultations, discussing contract terms, and making real decisions at the front line.
When a deal closed, I felt a strange pride—like I’d become the kind of “business person” you only see on TV. And because I could feel myself improving, my satisfaction with work was high.
Right around the time I was gaining momentum, I got scolded by the director who had always taken care of me—someone known as a genuinely good person.
II. “Why did you do it like this?”
So much time has passed that I don’t remember the exact details of the case.
What I do remember is this: it wasn’t something I could decide alone. I asked my director verbally, got his approval, and then I sent the response out.
About a week later, out of nowhere, he asked:
“Why did you handle it this way?”
“Um… I told you about it, and you said to proceed that way, so I sent the response.”
“No. When did I ever say that?”
“You did… back then.”
His voice suddenly got louder.
“I would never say something like that. I remember exactly what I said—why are you insisting?”
III. The internal conflict
I was the person responsible for the work. It wasn’t a decision I could make alone. I had thought it through for a long time, and that’s why I asked him.
I was 100% sure my memory was correct.
I wanted to say this:
“I’m the one in charge. I asked you after thinking about it for a long time. How could I forget something like that?”
But I swallowed it.
If I pushed back, our good relationship might break. And it would look like a junior employee was “talking back.”
I tried to tell myself: “No one is perfect. Everyone makes mistakes.”
Still, no matter how kindly I tried to interpret it, the unfairness didn’t go away. It stayed—and quietly hurt.
IV. Leaving a paper trail
That’s when a thought hit me:
“If I had left even a short email or text before sending the response, this wouldn’t have happened.”
After that, I changed how I worked.
If we agreed verbally, I sent a short follow-up message:
“As discussed, I’ll proceed this way.”
If a decision was needed, I sent a summary and asked for confirmation:
“Here’s the full summary. I’m planning to respond like this—please review and share your feedback.”
I moved forward only after receiving a confirmation email. And I sorted everything so I could find it easily later.
After some time, a similar situation happened again.
V. Five minutes
“Why did this turn out like this?”
“I proceeded after confirming it with you by email.”
“I can’t imagine I said that…”
“My memory might be wrong too. Let me check if I can find the email I sent back then.”
Within five minutes, I found the email and forwarded it.
After realizing his memory was wrong, he started pulling back whenever I said I was sure. He would even say “you don’t need to send proof,” but I sent it anyway.
VI. What proof changes
There are people who believe they remember everything. And when that person is your boss, one sentence can end the conversation:
“When did I ever say that?”
It doesn’t matter whether it’s someone on your team or a manager from another department. The pattern is the same: “I never said that.”
But once you show proof—once they experience, even once, that their memory can be wrong— it becomes harder for them to insist so confidently the next time.
And if it happens again, you don’t have to argue. You can end it calmly with one line:
“My memory might be wrong. I’ll check whether I can find the email I sent back then.”
In the workplace, words disappear. Records remain. And proof is stronger than memory.
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