“I can’t believe he said that.” I sat staring back at the Skype message. I could feel my cheeks getting hot and the tears welling up in my eyes. I shouldn’t have been surprised. I hear it all the time from men. I can see them getting ready to say it, internally I cringe, and of course, externally I force a smile and an “oh, thanks” with my head cocked slightly to the side in the most non-threatening posture I can command.
This one hurt more than others. It came from a male colleague I deeply respected. We had recently worked on a project together and there was opportunity for him to see me, to really see me work. I reached out to him because I knew he was retiring, and I didn’t want him to leave without knowing how grateful I was for the time and wisdom he shared with me.
I half expected him to give me parting words of wisdom, or a word of encouragement. What I got instead was the most common and infuriating pat on the head, the copout “compliment” men love to give me, and I suspect, millions of other women. “I’ve always admired your energy.” Humiliating.
So what? Millions of women across the globe are, at this very moment, being sexually harassed, mistreated, and seriously abused. So, what’s my problem? I get emotionally bruised by a compliment? I should graciously accept, what was from his point of view, a genuine word of praise.
I have had this argument with myself for years. Every time I hear this “compliment” it feels like someone punched me in the gut. It confirms my long-held suspicions that I am not seen as an accomplished professional but rather some little girl with pigtails, spastically bouncing off the walls.
When I say I’ve heard this “energy” compliment a lot, I would say I’ve heard it routinely over the past 20 years from men I worked with who were peers, subordinates, and managers. I’ve built a career and a reputation as a problem solver, someone who can get things done when others have tried and failed.
My list of products, projects, and programs is prolific. You can’t walk through the halls of my corporate office without seeing something I’ve had a hand in delivering with a team or on my own.
I’m sure it’s easy to look at my resume and assume I built it with an abundant amount of energy. No doubt I bound out of bed each day, buzzing with excitement and positivity. No. I am tired. I am 25 years into my career and I have very little raw energy left to throw at any project.
I am tired of fighting to be paid as much as my male peers who don’t have a fraction of my resume. I am tired of having to prove myself over and over and over again, just to get the title for the job I’m already doing. I am tired of being passed over for men who get opportunity after opportunity based on solely on “potential.” If they have any substantive accomplishments on their resume, it was long ago, and yet they’ve been able to draw on that political capital for decades, while coasting on mediocrity. It has worn me down.
Once upon a time I was able to emotionally self-rescue, but that superpower is dwindling with each passing year. So, no, I don’t have any energy, at least no more than anyone else.
Not only is the “compliment” inaccurate, it’s offensive. Think about it. That’s the only thing you can find to say to me? “I like your energy.” I’m not a terrier.
It’s not energy; I don’t have any more than you do. If you were paying attention at all you would see that I am able to communicate with just about anyone in any forum. I build and inspire diverse teams. I am organized and keep detailed schedules, logistical plans and budgets in check. I know what done should look like, and I have enough grit to get to “done” regardless of the obstacles. Those are my talents. For years now, I have been measuring out and pouring in the right amount of each to create a lethal recipe of efficiency.
In your mind you might be saying to yourself, “she sounds quite full of herself.” And you would be right. I know who I am and what I’m capable of. If you assigned those talents to a man, would it sit better and feel more comfortable? Maybe all I get is “energy” because acknowledging the existence of these talents in me, a woman, puts me on equal footing with you. Now you’re really uncomfortable. Now you are confronted with the possibility that not only can I do the same job as you, I may actually do it better. And maybe I’m better at leveraging the talents traditionally reserved for men. It’s possible I’ve figured out the ancient art of, you know, L-E-A-D-E-R-S-H-I-P! So, if you’re having trouble finding the specific words to give me a real compliment, you can always rely on one that’s tried and true, the one men love to give each other. Say it with me, “I really appreciated your leadership on that project.”
I don’t have a secret battery pack I plug into to recharge. I am talented, but I am tired. I’ve been tired for most of my career. I have to produce at a dizzying rate, not to guarantee advancement, but just to maintain employment. The prospect of working long after my male colleagues have retired, to make up for the salary deficit I’ve been dragging around for decades, just adds to my exhaustion.
To cite “energy” or “fire” or “spunk” as the justification for a woman’s success gives men an easy out and further dehumanizes us. The more men can separate and redefine our talents as somehow different than theirs, the more they can paint our success as some type of anomaly. My success is different and surprising, a fluke, an inexplicable oddity.
Different leads to unequal and less than. I get “different” opportunities, and I am only allowed to be successful in specific arenas, not the same as men even though I play the same game and often play it better. I don’t want a special arena; I just want the same one you have. Are you afraid to let me in?
The next time you want to compliment a woman in your professional life, please don’t tell her you like her energy. The women at your company don’t have any special energy reserve. Chances are they have far less energy than you do. If she’s young and single, she’s broke and probably working two jobs. If she’s a wife and a mother, she’s exhausted from having to care for everyone but herself. If she’s a woman of color, she ran out of energy long ago from having to bob and weave her way through an obstacle course you can’t imagine. They’re all tired, so don’t pat them on the head with the copout compliment. Just tell the truth. Have enough courage and confidence to acknowledge that she has the same talents as you, and sometimes she wields them better.
What's HER Problem? 