What’s It Like to Be in a Women Only Space

Today, I had the immense privilege to attend the Texas Conference for Women. I walked into an arena normally used for concerts and basketball that, instead today, was filled with thousands upon thousands of women in power suits. To say it was jarring was putting it mildly.

For a very long time in my career, I was the only woman in the room. Every room I walked into was filled with male eyes, laughter, and judgement. Here I was, a woman with a bilingual Master’s degree in International Business Development being mistaken for a secretary, objectified, asked to make coffee, and told that women shouldn’t wear pants. I was the only woman in the room while working on projects to expand access to breast cancer screenings. All of it was appalling but perhaps worst of all, I once heard one man introduce another as ‘the foremost expert on tits.’ These were the people who were supposed to be champions of women’s health.

But today was not that.

Today, I wasn’t scared about being touched inappropriately. I wasn’t worried my pantsuit was inappropriate. I wasn’t worried about not being taken seriously. I wasn’t worried about being mistaken for anyone other than who I was - a solopreneur speaking with authority.

I was taken seriously and seen as someone with something to offer, not someone to demean.

When I left my corporate career this is all I ever wanted. I just wanted to be with women, among women, lifting each other up, connecting, empowering, seeing one another, and being seen.

At first, quite honestly, the huge crowds of people who all seemed to be there in large groups were intimidating. Being in a woman only space has its own dynamic. I definitely felt an air of cliquishness. Everyone seemed to be in established groups, established friendships, established spaces, and there didn’t feel like a great deal of opening for an outsider. I’m not sure if this was my own insecurity speaking or the actual energy of the space. I also felt an air of competition. These women are all high achievers looking to level up. It did not feel like the most collaborative space I’ve ever been in.

I signed up for the conference for a reason. I want to expand my small circle. I want to be among women leaders and professionals. I want to connect and talk and learn how we can help each other. Lift as we climb and all rise together. That wasn’t exactly the environment that I found myself in. It seemed like most women had received a ticket from their job, were there to bond with their coworkers, and to enjoy the talks.

Moreover, I’m an introvert at heart. I am happiest working from home with my dog in her bed at my feet or connecting in small groups. How could I possibly overcome everything that was happening in the arena and inside me to achieve my goal of connection?

I knew that if I missed this opportunity to connect with these women I would regret it. After all, they were at the conference to connect with people, too, weren’t they? They were at the conference looking for the same things I was. I knew I had to be brave for the version of me years ago that was trapped in that male dominated corporate job.

So I did it. During the breaks, I grabbed a copy of each of my books and began approaching small clusters of women. I asked for a moment of their time. The reception was overwhelmingly positive. Not for a moment did I experience any judgement or rejection.

Those conversations weren’t easy, but they were good. It took everything in me to walk up to complete strangers, hand them my books, and say look at me. Listen to me. I am worth listening to. And I was received with kindness, openness, and curiosity. It felt scary to be received in that way.

One of the things that I found listening to the speakers was that success requires a little audacity.

In the male-dominated corporate world I came from, I was used to being invisible. It felt safer and easier to be invisible. Please don’t look at me as I kick ass at my job. I am just going to be over here being amazing and I don’t want to be perceived. I don’t want credit or attention. I am an invisible power house. Or I was. One of the things I am realizing is that I deserve better. I deserve more.

Today I practiced asking for more.

But the best moment of the day actually came from outside the arena. On the way back to the car, I ended up walking next to another woman parked in the same garage. She was also a solopreneur, author, and was decompressing after having worked all day at the conference. We got to have a real conversation about our experiences of the conference and trade some notes as authors. Walking out of the conference, I feel like I found exactly what I came for.