Things i've learnt from women around me
and am continuing to learn
I’ve spent my whole life surrounded by women outside of my home. Girls’ school. Girls’ college. Female professors. Female bosses. Women in power, women stepping into power, women quietly rewriting the rules of what power can look like.
And somewhere along the way, without me even noticing, they’ve contributed to shaping me. They’ve taught me how to lead, how to listen, how to stand up for myself, and how to soften without losing strength.
I owe so much of who I’m becoming to them. Especially, the parts of me that I’m growing to love. This series is my way of writing about it, of acknowledging them and silently perhaps, cheering them on.
#Lesson 1: Owning Every Part of Being a Woman
My current boss embodies something I’ve rarely seen articulated: she is not fragmented. She brings her whole self to work. All parts of her. She doesn’t pretend she’s only one thing at a time. She brings the mother, the sister, the friend, the founder— everyone to work. Cause she is everyone. She doesn't do it effortlessly, she does it honestly. That’s the only way for her to be.
I’ve grown up seeing a lot of women pretend. Pretend that things are easy. Pretend they’re unaffected. Pretend that holding everything together is effortless.
It’s tiring. But the world rewards that kind of emotional invisibility. It convinces us, women that hiding behind walls will protect them. But the truth is, those walls only dims our own light. Our potential
But she doesn’t do that. She says out loud that it’s difficult. That it’s overwhelming at times. That being responsible for a company and a family is not a neat, not perfectly balanced, but it is a real, living weight she chooses every day. A weight she carries with grace because she wouldn’t have it any other way.
Let that sink in.
She is not a complainer. She just doesn’t hide. I can imagine her smiling and saying, ‘These are all parts of my life. And my life is lovely, it’s beautiful because all these parts exist.’
Of course there are days she is frustrated. And somehow, voicing those struggles just doesn’t weaken her. It makes her more rooted, more human, more powerful.
What she models for me is this:
You don’t have to dissect parts of yourself to become a leader.
You don’t have to sacrifice one identity to “justify” another.
You don’t have to hide your softness, your hormones, your vulnerability, your chaos.
You’re allowed to show up as a whole, complicated, brilliant human.
You’re allowed to be a mess sometimes. A brilliant, tired, intuitive, multitasking mess.
And that doesn’t make you less of a boss. Hell! it doesn’t make you any less in any way. Period.
Watching her, I’ve
realised that the strength of a woman in power doesn’t come from pretending she has no cracks. It comes from owning every piece. The fragile, the fierce, the funny, the feminine! And bringing all of it into the room, unapologetically.
This is the first lesson I’ve learnt.