This might have been the biggest lie ever told: women have to be hard, tough, and unyielding to get ahead.
I did a bit of soul searching and found out, it couldn’t be further from the truth.
The key to female success is in your compassionate, nurturing spirit. Let me tell you how I learned.
I joined the Army in 2016.
I was born into a military family so it was the obvious thing to do – and I had grown up seeing so many promotion ceremonies and people walking around in uniform that civilian life seemed imaginary.
I showed up to my first physical training at 18 years old, not knowing what to expect besides yelling. It sucked – by the time the sun rose I couldn’t stop scratching mosquito bites and I was certain I would cough up blood. But I had finished. Day one done.
Over the first year I tried my best to be the smartest little soldier there could be. I scored high on all of my tests, did well on my physical exams, and before I knew it, I was at the top of my class. I had an expectation to live up to anyway – people knew my older sister who had gone before me.
I settled in as a quiet, competent cadet and hoped for the best. Of course, that was when things got rough.
It was the story same old story – a young woman succeeding in a male dominated space, subjected to all disrespect and meanness.
Older men felt threatened and applied extra pressure, peers of both genders tried their hand at manipulation since they couldn’t compete in other areas.
After a while I got tired of it. I remember using the phrase “I’m no one’s punching bag.” I decided to get tough – no one would mess with me if I could defend myself. And since I’d had experience with bullies in middle and high school, college was no problem. I was a veteran.
Here’s the thing though: the Army is a team. You can’t have infighting, and you can’t have leaders who feel unsafe around their subordinates. It’s the first part of dividing and conquering; we don’t want to do the bad guy’s work for them.
Our teachers expected us to not get along and had us do something called anonymous peer reviews. Basically, everyone in the class’s name is put down on sheets of paper, and everyone gets to write what they think about them without having to identify themselves, allowing for complete honesty and transparency.
It was brutal.
I never got around to asking everyone how they felt about it, but mine had an impact on my self image for years.
When we review these forms, our mentors pulled them up side-by-side with the rest of our evaluations: physical fitness, class grades, extracurricular involvement and mentor notes.
Now you know me: ten ten ten across the board. Highest grades, fitness scores, plus I was getting our commander involved with the college programs (community outreach points anyone?) So my professor was beaming with pride and told me how he saw great things in my future.
Then… he slid over the peer review. I still remember his hesitant expression; he didn’t want me to see it. Slowly, he said to take my time, read it, and tell him what I thought.
Those people dragged me through the mud.
I’m not exaggerating when I say they called me everything except a child of God. In a class of 30 students I had TWO non-mean comments, and one of them was “Average.”
My peers thought I was a dirtbag – a girl who didn’t know what was going on, who was overweight and unfit, who wasn’t involved and didn’t care.
All credit to my professor who never broke eye contact with me and assured me that this was normal.
This is what he said: “Clearly these things aren’t true. That means there is a perception about you that you have the power to change. What I want you to do, is to try opening up to them. Let your classmates see what kind of person you really are.”
The experience rocked me. I thought it was obvious the value I brought, and I thought that I had created the kind of Army-tough persona needed to command respect. But it turned out to be a failure.
So I took my mentor’s advice and, after getting past a mountain of humiliation and pain, tried being my mother-of-the-friend group self in our professional settings.
I took the time to get to know my classmates deeper, asking about people’s family and history to find similarities. I offered to be of help with things that I knew they didn’t actually need help with, but were probably glad not to do alone. Everyone became my friend in some way, even the friendship amounted to no more than eye contact during a laugh.
You would not believe how quickly they switched up.
In the space of four months I went from being the girl who didn’t know anything to the sweetest, kindest person they knew, and in the words of a few, potentially the best in the program.
After a year I saw the fruits of my labor: I was appointed Chief of Operations. I was in charge of everything, oversaw a team of my own, and answered to no one except the commander.
What I ended up taking away was that when women allow their maternal instincts to guide them, they naturally succeed. I had been taught that in a professional environment being caring was a weakness, but it turns out that those instincts activate the inner child in people that cause them to trust, rely on, and look to a woman for approval.
It doesn’t matter their age or life experiences – from new students to airborne rangers fresh from war, everyone feels safe around maternal love.
What’s more is that if the person or people in question hurt you in the past and you find the strength to forgive them, they’ll become your greatest supporters.
I won’t get into the years long process of letting the hard stuff go. I’m a little petty actually – sometimes I have to stop myself from going too far, calling them out on social media and such. It takes a bit of prayer to get over white boys calling you fat and useless, you know?
But I’ve been living by what I learned for years. Today I’m a Chief of Staff in the big Army, typing this post on my phone as I supervise training from a tower.
I’ve only become kinder since then, more understanding and patient.
So it’s okay if you feel a bit swept up in the girl-boss-defeat-the-men race. It’s perfect, actually – you’re mastering the energy in you that DOES, builds, creates! It can be fiery and hard to control, chaotic or even dangerous. But you can turn it into something calm, measured, and precise, which is what makes great leaders.
Add a pinch (or gallon depending on how much you have to spare) of nurturing love to the mix, and you become a woman of standing. With patience, you will watch how people who might have intimidated you before start relying on you. And not for your hardworking spirit or your call-it-like-it-is-ness, but for your feminine wisdom; the common sense that only you can provide, and the internal emotional fortitude that makes you remarkable.
I hope this helps. Give it a try and tell me how things work out! I love you 🤎
If you think you may need a boost in your compassion stores, I’ve got a digital workbook to help you refill!
Download it here: https://amourabroad.tentary.com/p/3lU6z6
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