I’m not a person others would say suffers from a lack of confidence — in fact, I have been praised for my leadership skills since I was in school. But when I was let go from my last position, it took me four months to confidently re-enter the job hunt. This post is about the experiences that led to this, that other women, in particular, will recognize — and likely many others as well. So instead of only having isolated conversations, I thought there would be value in sharing my experience and openly discussing the small things that build up and hold people back.
In the past decade in my various roles, I have worn a lot of hats. I have been a: Consultant, Organizer, Activist, Mentor, Advisor, Lighting Designer, Set Designer, Technical Director, Assistant Director, Fight Choreographer, Travel Writer, Panelist, Speaker, Workshop Leader, Moderator, Emcee, Resident Assistant, Woodworking Teacher, Stage Manager, Event Planner, Researcher, Software Engineer, Business Analyst, Data Analyst, Product Manager, Teaching Assistant, Part-time Faculty, Operations Manager, Engineering Manager, Development Associate, Data & Governance Strategist, Account Manager, Editor, Furniture Maker, and Policy Advisor.
Not all of these roles were officially part of my job. Many of them have been lumped into a role as I demonstrated competence, and went unrecognized in the professional space. A combination of my age, gender, and abilities meant that I was expected to gratefully take on the additional responsibility without a change in title or compensation.
When I left my first job, a Human Resource staff member said I would never succeed in my career during my exit interview. To them, I was moving on too quickly even though my next position was a big step forward. After a few years in my second position, my leadership and impact were dismissed in favor of asking me to step back and concentrate on business analytics. After pointing out that I was being physically boxed out in meetings and ignored by the new all-male executive team in my next position, I was advised to raise my hand and wait to be called upon to speak in meetings. The newly-promoted Head of Product implied that I was unqualified for the job.
The repeated experiences of constantly fighting for respect and a place at the table left me exhausted and brittle. I doubted my ability to motivate everyone towards an ambitious goal. I regretted taking on a big project that I could no longer see through to its completion and lost sight of the impact I had made building a more cohesive team, including remote and in-office members, working through feedback struggles.
After some time away from the tech industry, I joined another young startup. A common thread in my conversations with the leaders was that I was young and unprepared for leadership but would one day be ready; I should just sit tight. Instead of recognizing how this diminished my experience and value, I accepted the statements as true. The previous wear and tear left me insecure about my value as an employee — and a person. As a result, I accepted the role and set aside my ambitions for a later date.
Through a small growth period, the company continued to revisit old ideas for the product, the market, etc. with every new hire. Instead of facing the lack of progress despite a growing team, the ambition of individual contributors was drained away — including my own. I found myself continually questioning my right to broaden my scope and step into larger projects. While I could clearly see a need for someone to do it, I allowed myself to be continually diminished. My acuity and perspective were complimented but they did not translate to actual responsibilities or respect. My writing and engagement with others in the community was not enough for what they needed. But nobody else at the company could do what I did or speak on the same issues. I had been so ground down I failed to value and advocate for myself, my ideas, or my experience.
When I was eventually let go from this last position, I carried the weight that I had failed myself. The collective nudges and prods through every transition burned at me. I told myself that I was too ambitious, aiming too high too fast. I started looking at jobs for other product manager positions, giving up on my goal to blend my technical background with my policy studies. I accepted that I was not cut out for a leadership role.
I lost my ambition to improve the lives of others and the faith that I could make such an impact.
And I failed to apply to new jobs, failed to be motivated through the process of job hunting, networking, and interviewing. Nearly 5 months later, after catching up with friends, reading, networking, and consulting, I’m recovered.
I am a leader of cross-functional teams. I know how to build a culture that is inclusive, transparent, and fair. I can speak across lines of expertise, egos, and titles. I’m good under fire with a strong moral compass motivating me.
So here I am declaring my candidacy to lead an honest technology organization that combats inequity and works towards justice.
I’ll be spending the next few weeks chatting with folks about what they view as required skills — and feedback on what I’m missing — for someone to lead an organization. What skills can I recognize in myself but have undervalued? What have I neglected as I shrank into survival mode over time? Whether they’re leading an organization themselves or a funder to organizations, I’m aiming to get as many perspectives as possible. If you’d like to chat, please reach out!
If any of this felt familiar, how did you deal with it? Have you overcome similar moments? You can find me on social media @sampswu to discuss tactics, commiserate, etc.
PS Many, many thanks to my three editors! Thank you so much for your brutal honesty and support!
