DONE GASLIGHTING MYSELF
“I just don’t think I’m ready,” shared a close friend as we were discussing her manager’s departure. She didn’t want to put herself forward for her boss’ role. My heart sank. “Why don’t you think you’re ready?” I asked carefully. “I don’t know that I have the experience, and I’m not sure I want that much responsibility,” she explained. She has two children under the age of four, and an already demanding job that puts her back at her desk most nights after the kids are in bed. I get it. And it sounds so familiar.
Those same words came out of my own mouth many years ago. With the departure of my department head, and many of the senior leaders, I was left holding the bag at work while managing two young kids at home. When the President approached me about taking over the global HR team, I told him the same thing. “I’m not ready.” My reasons were complicated, but they came down to two things.
First, I wasn’t sure I’d be successful in the role. Would I be accepted onto the executive team? Would I get the backing I needed? The cost of failure seemed unbearable. I didn’t think I’d be able to recover if the answer was no. Second, I worried I wouldn’t be able to manage everything at home. How would I take on the demands of the new job and still care for my kids? I didn’t have the systems and support in place to give much more to my career than I was already giving. Even with a nanny, it often felt overwhelming.
I had my reasons for responding “I’m not ready.” Yet I never really stopped to ask what was behind it. Instead, I gaslit myself, saying it was because I lacked the experience and more importantly the confidence to do the job. I felt terrible about it, but I let the opportunity pass me by.
If I’d been more willing to really explore the dynamics at play, I may have discovered that this wasn’t just about my confidence or capabilities. There were a number of gender biases at play that I hadn’t even recognized.
There weren’t many role models for me to look to. Part of the reason I couldn’t picture myself being successful in the role was because there were so few women role models. Only a few of the members of the leadership team were women. No one on the team was a mother of young children. I had no example to look to and see that it was possible.
The executive roles were gendered to fit men’s lives and situations. I didn’t have a housewife waiting in the wings to manage everything when I needed to travel overseas for work. There was little flexibility in my childcare arrangements to be able to stay at work late when meetings ran into the evening hours.
Women often are evaluated on past performance, while men are evaluated on potential. Rather than beating myself up about a lack of confidence, I could have been thinking about why I felt I needed more qualifications in order to take the job. I’d been taught to focus on my achievements rather than my potential. That put the bar very high for taking on a whole new role. I was ignoring what I was capable of and focusing only on what I’d done so far.
The common “double bind” women experience meant that I ran the risk of not being seen as a leader. My career as a HR professional was built on acting in ways that were cooperative and communal. These traits are expected for a woman and especially one in my profession. Yet to take on the executive role meant that I also needed to be seen as authoritative, which can often run counter to the communal/cooperative traits that women rely on to be seen as likable. Without fully understanding these dynamics, I was worried I wouldn’t be seen as an executive leader and told myself I wasn’t ready for the role.
Each of these biases were real and present in my situation all of those years ago. I wish that I had understood them back then, because it would have given me an opportunity to consciously strategize on ways to counter them. Instead of pretending that the problem was just me and beating myself up about it, I could have sought out mentors and allies to work through some of the challenges I faced.
Eventually, I decided I was ready to take on this level of responsibility and I subconsciously found ways to navigate each of these biases. I set expectations on travel and evening work, and found more support for my family responsibilities. I sought out role models in a variety of places. I walked the tightrope of being communal in some settings and authoritative in others. Yet I think about how much better it could have been, had I better understood the dynamics that I was managing.
Today, when I hear other women say, “I’m not ready,” it stops me in my tracks. Partly because it’s sad to hear, but also because it’s a big opportunity. It’s a chance to share what I’ve learned about gender bias and provide the perspective that I didn’t have during my years in the corporate world. Because this is where we really need to start. Opening up the conversation. Sharing our experiences and strategies. Supporting one another. Giving ourselves some grace, rather than gaslighting ourselves about the problem and internalizing it as a confidence issue.
As we celebrate Women’s History Month, I invite each one of us to seek out conversations around gender bias. Let's get curious and ask questions. Let’s share the beauty and pain of our experiences. Let pave the way for things to be just a little bit easier for each other as we move forward. I’m looking forward to the conversation!
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