Confidence Gap? #MeToo!
It started early. I drafted a legal document for the president of a company I was interning at in the summer of 1995. I brought it into his office and asked how it looked (proudly, I admit — I’m no lawyer but this doc was solid). “It looks great,” he said, looking me up and down slowly. “But not nearly as good as the girl who typed it.” Immediately my confidence plummeted.
Early 2000s, sitting at a dinner during a telecommunications conference listening to the speakers, brash young startup types ready to change the world. I got seated next to a venture capitalist and I asked him a few questions about the company presenting and gave my thoughts on their business model. He was really kind; he told me that you can tell how smart a person is by the questions they ask. I felt worthy. I felt a different way when he stood up to leave halfway through the dinner presentation. He leaned over in that super confident way some men have, and said “It’s been really nice sitting here talking with you over dinner, but it’s NOT how I’d choose to spend time with you if I had a choice.” The way he whispered made his intention clear. All those words about how smart I was? Completely forgotten when I realized what qualities he really admired.
I saw a video this past weekend about mediocre men getting promoted because they have high confidence that is regarded as the makings of a good leader. It really resonated with me, because I hugely admire people who radiate confidence, and I’m someone who has been told she lacks confidence and it’s holding her back. (by the way, that’s a sucky thing to say — it makes the problem worse). It occurs to me that perhaps lack of confidence is related to the problems the #metoo movement is trying to address. Perhaps some women lose confidence because they are repeatedly reminded that their value lies not in their leadership skills?
Working in the glory days of the digital music industry, I was invited over to the apartment of a DJ we had arranged to appear in one of our ads. I thought it was a business meeting, but my antennae went up (being a woman means always having to be aware and alert) so I brought a male colleague with me. When we got there, the guy was alone in his apartment with a bottle of Veuve Cliquot chilling in the fridge. Maybe his intentions were innocent, maybe not. The three of us shared the bottle of champagne, he looking none too happy about it. And I again began to doubt myself. My negotiation skills must not be that hot after all.
There have been many times in my career when I started to think I was a confident badass female executive striking deals, only to realize that the business partner was pushing for a partnership that was a bit more horizontal in nature. Cue the immediate self doubt — maybe I’m not really very good. Maybe it’s just me. I’ve seen other women react to these types of incidents as if they were confidence boosters. Have they just learned to choke off the inner questions that arise? Or do they have something that I’m missing? There I go again.
Going way back, I once negotiated with a former baseball player to appear at a kid’s baseball camp that I was putting together. This was my first job out of college, and it required me to fly around the country negotiating deals. Great confidence builder! Until this one former player asked me to meet him at his hotel bar later, and we’d work out a way for him to appear at my camp for free. Wink wink. That’s what I call extreme business development! I laughed it off. Humor has been an important shield for me.
Perhaps a stronger person than me would take these incidents as compliments. I let them go, because that’s how I chose to roll. But at what cost? Each time a tiny voice in my head started telling me I was only liked because I was wanted, and that I wasn’t that good at my job after all. Layer over that the process of aging, which happens to all of us if we’re lucky, and you have the makings of a real mindf*ck.
I wonder how much of my reaction was due to my personal circumstances, and how much is common to other women’s experiences. I wasn’t raised to believe I could succeed at whatever I wanted to do. I was the first member of my extended family to attend college. My mom, who immigrated to the US from Colombia, worked quality control in a factory and folded newspapers at night for pennies each. I can’t even imagine what she had to deal with. For me, my reactions might have been influenced by a pretty serious case of imposter syndrome.
These things compound over the years. The new boss who asked to join my upcoming business trip, saying “It’s time to pop our travel cherry.” And there are more — some that I’m way too afraid to even type here. Maybe I shouldn’t have laughed it off. Maybe had I reacted with anger or demanded respect, I might have gained more armor and in time built up my reserves of confidence, instead of questioning my worth. But then I’d be regarded as abrasive and bitchy, and held back for those reasons. Can’t win, can we?
How can we encourage the next generation to react in a way that builds confidence, instead of draining it? Perhaps the #metoo movement will help, by nurturing a generation of women that sees itself as multi-faceted. Getting complimented on your attractiveness doesn’t have to mean you’re not intelligent or brave or kind or witty — it’s not a zero sum game.
But the kind of comments I’m remembering here aren’t really compliments, are they? They’re power trips. A way of putting someone in her place, to make the giver feel more secure in his. I’m hoping my daughters, and all their friends, will know their place so no one can put them in it. They’ll already be there.
