After several grueling years of working at an organization following an industry crisis, I was fried. Those years had taken quite a toll on me both mentally, physically, professionally and personally. 70+ hour weeks in a high-stakes, male dominated environment for several years had left me ragged! The stress had manifested into frequent heart palpitations, hives and eye twitches. Despite this, I was able to lead my team to accomplish a great deal in the face of daunting requirements and unrealistic timelines that resulted in considerable financial rewards for the organization. I had much to be proud of.
But the die was cast and the decision made that a replacement would be found. It really was in the best interest of the organization and myself. My boss, an executive manager in the organization, and I worked closely on the replacement strategy. My goal was to ensure the organization, my team, the company’s shareholders and I were all well positioned for ongoing success.
During one of our strategy meetings, my boss asked if I had thought about how we would communicate my changing role to the team and the organization. Before I could say a word, he said “How about this: You’ve been working so hard for the last several years through the crisis and other big matters. Through such hard work, you’ve managed to turn things around. You are tired! You want to stay here in a lesser role and get a much needed break. You’re engaged now and you want to be able to go home and fix your fiancé dinner.”
I was floored! I suggested that first we should start with something that is believable (I much prefer picking restaurants and everyone that knows me knows this) and telling the truth is much better in the long run to ensure we keep the trust and respect of our colleagues. Now he was floored. “You’d really take the hit of telling people the truth, that we want to make a change.”
Why is the truth a problem? I was tired and a male-dominated company needed someone other than an opinionated, curly-haired blonde in the position. But somehow following this exchange, I felt as I failed to produce top-notch work for the organization and pull off a few miracles along the way (all of which I know I did). So why did I let this comment lead to self-doubt?
I also felt marginalized by the suggestion that I would tell people I was going home to fix my future husband dinner. Aside from the fact he is a good cook as well, I wondered if this suggestion would have been made if I was male. I had more than proven myself in a male-dominated culture and yet I was going home to fix dinner now??
In the end, I think my boss’s comments boiled down to the fact that he lacked diversity intelligence. This isn’t to say he is not an intelligent person because he definitely is; he didn’t, however, understand the impact and implications of his comments. He’s just unaware.
More importantly, why was I doubting myself? Self-doubt or a lack of confidence is often an issue for women. This is well documented and qualified. In 2011, the Institute of Leadership and Management surveyed managers about how confident they feel in their professions. Half the female respondents reported self-doubt about their job performance and careers, compared to fewer than a third of male respondents. Many other studies demonstrate the same thing.
Compared to male counterparts, women have less confidence. Is this because women are more likely to be perfectionist? Is it attributable to differences in the brain (yes, they do display differences in structure and chemistry)? What about the backlash (yet again proven) both socially and professionally, for women who come across too confident? Does this mean even more gender self-awareness work?
What do you think?
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