In May 2014 the cover story forThe Atlantic addressed the lack of confidence women feel and exhibit in professional settings. The article explored the impact this “confidence gap” has on women’s professional interactions and career advancement.
Normally, I would ignore an article like this. For better or for worse, a lack of confidence has never been an issue for me. But my husband and were collaborating on a new book (The Professional Women’s Guide to Getting Promoted), so I read the fascinating article in search of applicable insights.
The authors Katty Kay and Claire Shipman are hugely accomplished and impressive women, as are all the women interviewed and profiled in the piece. And yet, all expressed a lack of confidence … a feeling that they didn’t deserve their professional success and that they didn’t know as much as their louder, more boisterous male peers.
Comparing their experiences to my own, created a strange sensation. I picked up the magazine, walked into my husband’s office, displayed the cover emblazoned with the words “The Confidence Gap”, and said …
“I have never felt like this in my entire life.”
And it’s true. I haven’t.
In fourth grade, I was the terror of the blacktop, taking down boys in handball (the violent version where you hit the ball and occasionally your opponent as hard as you can manage), foursquare (I still have scars on my knuckles from scraping asphalt while putting a wicked spin on the ball), and even on the basketball court (not in basketball per se, but in a shooting game called Lightning which involved knocking your opponent’s ball away from the basket with all your might).
When I was 11 and my softball coach said I couldn’t be a pitcher, I threw 100 pitches every single day until I became the star pitcher of my All-Star team the following season (and subsequent four seasons).
I knew (the same way I knew my hair was brown) that I was one of the smartest kids (not the smartest, but one of them) in my classes. And when I finally gave up on math, it wasn’t because I didn’t think I was smart enough to understand it eventually, I just didn’t care if I ever did.
I was very confident.
The kind of confident that is generally associated with the male sex. The trash-talking, one-upping, out-doing, I-can-do-anything, kind of confident that society tends to strip away from women by adolescence.
Am I weird? I thought as I read the article. Why is my experience so different from so many other women?
There’s probably no clear answer, but I know I was very, very lucky in at least one sense. I had a father who ignored gender stereotypes. He raised me as a person, not as a girl judged by her ability to appropriately display female “virtues”.
He didn’t like my super-size ego, but he loved my confidence. And he worked hard to teach me the difference between the two. He didn’t preach modesty as something women were supposed to exhibit; he taught me that people should demonstrate respect, compassion, and empathy for others. And he modeled those behaviors in his own life.
He taught me to be proud of my abilities and accomplishments, but to recognize the abilities and accomplishments of others as well. He taught me to think about how my expressions of confidence impacted those around me. Because of him, I learned I didn’t always need to be center stage. He helped me embrace the deep fulfillment that comes from helping others shine.
I learned to strike a balance between “male” confidence and “female” empathy.
His encouragement and support kept my confidence alive through my pre-teen years, a time when so many women lose theirs. And I am incredibly thankful for that.
Because, while I may not have experienced the “confidence gap” that many women experience, I do struggle with self-promotion, asking for what I deserve, and negotiating on my own behalf. (Doing all these things on behalf of others, however, is a piece of cake.)
The “modesty” messages society sends women are strong, and they are hard to overcome, even when blessed with an innate confidence and encouraged to embrace it by those around you. How much harder is it for women who have been told by those closest to them that they are weak, limited, and don’t belong in positions of leadership, authority, or power? How much harder is it when those messages are confirmed through hiring and promotion decisions in the professional world?
There is a constant debate about whether women should act more like men in the professional world, or whether men should embrace more stereotypically “female” ways of leading and communicating. But it’s time to recognize that both approaches to communication have a seat at the table, and that neither is purely “male” or purely “female.”
Organizations need to recognize that many capable people aren’t interested in going around telling the world how awesome they are. That doesn’t mean they won’t make excellent leaders. In fact, precisely because they aren’t interested in taking credit and tooting their own horn, they are likely to excel at encouraging, motivating, and building consensus among team members. Likewise, organizations should embrace appropriate displays of confidence by both men and women, vigorously seeking to avoid the unintentional (but all too common) practice of penalizing women when they play ball like the boys.
Reward results, not chest-thumping.
Let’s close the “confidence gap” by acknowledging the value of various approaches to communication and leadership.
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Lauren Hug is a digital strategist, market researcher, and presentation consultant, with a handful of law degrees and a PR background. She is the author of The Professional Woman’s Guide to Getting Promoted and The Manager’s Guide to Presentations. Connect with her on Linked In, Twitter, or Facebook.
