Career Lessons from Being the Only Woman in the Room

👗"Jingjin, what are you wearing right now?" The question caught me off guard. It was eight years ago. I was in the office preparing for the upcoming QBR, when my phone rang. It was our division VP. “Can you be in a client meeting this afternoon?” he asked. One of the world’s largest automotive OEMs. High stakes. 200 people are working around the clock to close the deal. I had 6 hours to prepare. My heart raced. This was the kind of meeting that could change many things! Of course, I said yes. Then came the pause. And that question: “What are you wearing right now?” "Is there a dress code?" I laughed. "Kind of..." He continued, a bit apologetically yet firmly: “I need to tell you that the president has a reputation for hitting on women. I want you to be prepared.” Suddenly, my job wasn’t just to represent the business. It was to calculate risk. To protect myself in the room. In those five hours, I still worked on my talking points. But I also asked a junior male colleague to join me, as a buffer and braced myself for inappropriate comments. The meeting went well. I delivered. There were no inappropriate comments But that experience never left me. ... If you're a woman in leadership, you need to prepare for two battles: The work, and the room. And if you're a male leader, your silence is complicity. Here’s what I now teach women privately, and what I wish someone told me earlier: 1. 🛡️ Bring your buffer.    Don’t be afraid to request someone in the room with you, not to assist you technically, but to dilute the power imbalance. It’s not weakness. It’s strategy.     2. 🚫 Pre-empt boundary crossing.    If you’re warned someone is inappropriate, name it before it happens. “Just to clarify, I’ll be focused strictly on business today.” Let them know they won’t get away with casual harassment cloaked as banter.     3. 📍Control the setting when you can.    Suggest public venues, group meetings, or shorter time slots. Private dinners and “casual drinks” are not neutral spaces. Stop feeling guilty for adjusting logistics to protect your dignity.     4. 📝 Write it down.    Any inappropriate comment, no matter how subtle, goes in your private log: date, time, what happened, and who else was there. Not because you’re planning to report it. But because memory fades, and patterns matter.     5. ⚖️ Stop normalizing it.    You’re not “too sensitive.”    You’re not imagining it.    You’re managing two jobs: your work, and your safety.    And the latter is unpaid labor.     If you're still wondering whether gender equity has arrived, ask yourself who’s planning their safety before they speak. And who just gets to speak. 👊 Until the answer is “everyone,” we’re not done.

𝗧𝗵𝗲 𝗖𝗼𝘀𝘁 𝗼𝗳 𝗡𝗼𝘁 𝗛𝗮𝘃𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗔𝗻𝘆𝗼𝗻𝗲 𝗔𝗯𝗼𝘃𝗲 𝗠𝗲 𝗪𝗵𝗼 𝗟𝗼𝗼𝗸𝗲𝗱 𝗟𝗶𝗸𝗲 𝗠𝗲 Women in Tech are in minority. But as a woman leader, an AI infrastructure expert and an ex-particle physicist, I have experienced being the only woman in the room at yet another level. Not only have I only reported to men over the course of my career: 👉 The whole chain of command above me has always only been men. 👉 I've always worked for companies where the CEO and the CTO were men. 👉 In fact, almost all my peers were men, meaning that I was practically always the only woman in all staff meetings I was part of (sometimes, that would be 20 or 30 people!) When I was younger, I felt honored just to be there, part of an elite group of technologists. But that very feeling of being "lucky to be included" shaped how I behaved. I held back disagreement, afraid that if I challenged the group, it would be attributed to me being difficult, to me being... a woman. And when I was talked over or quietly ignored, it could never identify when it was discrimination, because I thought that since I was here, it must mean that they cared about my opinion, so if they shut it down, it meant I was just wrong. But then, it started costing me more than just self-confidence, but real opportunities: ❌ I couldn't find the courage to ask for promotions because I felt I should already consider myself lucky to be the highest ranking woman in my department ❌ I didn't have anyone to advise me because no one above me had gone through the same experience ❌ Some of my managers even praised me for "doing really well for a woman", so it made me feel that I was subject to different standards, and of course, no one was there to tell me otherwise ❌ I accepted the fact that I was being passed on for cool projects and promotions as a fatality In the meantime, DEI initiatives were focusing on bringing more women onboard, not helping the ones already in place grow the ladder. So if you’re the only one in the room, or the only one on the org chart who looks like you, don’t let that become a ceiling. 🤞 You are not "lucky" to be there. 💥 You are powerful. And you have every right to keep growing… and to keep dreaming 🚀 🚀🚀 #WomenInTech #Leadership #CareerGrowth #RepresentationMatters

I was minutes away from presenting the findings of a global study I’d lead-authored for one of the largest companies in the world… When a senior executive waved me over and said, “This milk is off.” I smiled politely and told him I’d let the receptionist know. His eyes widened, and he said, “Oh, I thought you WERE the receptionist.” 😠 Here’s the thing—over 50% of women have been mistaken for junior staff or janitors. For women of color, that number jumps to 58%. And it’s not just awkward, it’s corrosive! Being underestimated, spoken over, or misjudged chips away at your confidence and can even shape your career trajectory. In that moment, I had a choice: let the comment rattle me OR focus on what I came to do. I chose the latter and delivered my presentation.... But I didn't forget what happened. These moments are reminders of why we have to correct assumptions, stand our ground, and make our presence felt. Here's are some responses you can turn to in moments when someone underestimateS you: Ask Why "What made you think I was the receptionist?" Use Humor to Disarm "I’d love to help, but my milk-replacement skills are terrible—now, public speaking? That’s what I’m here for." Flip the Focus "Why is it usually the women here who get asked to do that kind of thing?" Get One-on-One Time Hanging out with someone who makes incorrect assumptions about you is probably the last thing you want to do, but spending a few minutes privately can sometimes reset how someone sees you. For example: "I wanted to flag something you said earlier. I’m here as [your role], and I want to make sure that’s clear going forward." Escalate if Needed If you continue to experience disrespect and microaggressions from a colleague, you might have to make your boss or HR aware of the situation so you can have documented evidence of how this person is treating you. You worked hard to be here. You belong in the room! And no snap judgment will change that. Image alt text: milk being poured into coffee

6 years ago, I walked into a board meeting as the most experienced person in the room. Yet, I got interrupted, dismissed, and talked over. I was asking sharp questions, calling out blind spots, and challenging assumptions. But one of my male colleagues rolled his eyes and moved on as if I hadn’t spoken. The message was clear: “Just rubber-stamp our decisions and don’t make this difficult.” That’s when I realized... There are different rules for women in leadership. What gets called “decisive” in some is often labeled “difficult” when a woman says it. I’ve watched this play out countless times throughout my career... But speaking up is still the right thing to do. Here’s what I’ve learned navigating this: 1) Build allies who care about impact, not politics. 🤝 In high-stakes environments, decisions often get clouded by ego, legacy agendas, or internal turf wars. With the right advocates on the board, pushback doesn’t isolate you—it positions you as the voice of reason. ✅ They help amplify your message. ✅ They back your perspective with data. ✅ They keep the conversation grounded in outcomes. 2) Watch how decisions get made. One reason I’ve loved working with the executive team at Weights & Biases is their first-principles mindset. Ideas are judged on logic, not hierarchy, politics, or gender. 🧠 When the best argument wins, everyone wins. 3) Trust your gut on culture. No title or pay is worth staying somewhere that crushes your confidence. Sometimes, quitting is the smartest move. 🛡️ It’ll give you the space to find the right team that supports your growth and lets you do your best work. _________ If you’ve ever been sidelined as a female leader because you challenged an idea, here’s a reminder: You’re NOT the problem. You’re the strategic thinker holding the foundation together. 💡 That takes courage. Keep standing your ground. The right people will recognize your value—and so will the company.

I was the only woman in a room of 50 VCs. Here's what I learned about power dynamics and what actually worked. - They tested me in ways they didn't test the men who pitched before me. My preparation had to be 3x better. Confidence wasn't enough - I needed ironclad proof for every claim. - Investors believe models they've already seen: young white male founders with familiar stories. Women in “non-female” industries need to prove it twice. Any mistake or nervous moment gets scaled to a stereotype - not as one founder's misstep, but as confirmation that “women struggle to run high-growth companies.” - You need to control the conversation. To set the frame, to anticipate skeptical questions before they’re asked. “You're probably wondering about X” became my favorite transition. It let me address doubts on my terms. - You have to consciously reframe prevention questions as growth opportunities. When they ask “How will you not lose customers?” answer with “Here's how this opens the path to Y market and scales to Z.” Don't just defend. Show expansion. - Data is your weapon. For women-led teams, numbers aren't optional - they're how you override stereotypes and move the conversation from "feelings" to facts. - But “feelings” and emotion worked too. Men could pitch vision. I wanted to do that too, and I prepared for it. I brought stories: members who moved cities and stayed with Les Amis. Screenshots of 2 AM messages saying “I finally found my people.” That was proof we were solving loneliness, not building another app. - And I made the invisible dynamic visible. I joked about being the only woman in the room. It disarmed them and put the awkwardness on the table. When you name it, you control it. Experiences like this are exhausting. You're hyper-visible and constantly scrutinized. But it also means you're unforgettable. Use that. What are your tactics for situations like this?

For most of my career in banking — and even now in the Thoropass boardroom — I’ve often been the only woman in the room. You’d think that by now, things would look different. They don’t. Not enough. Working in male-dominated spaces teaches you things textbooks never will. How to make your voice heard without being labeled “aggressive.” How to advocate for yourself when no one else in the room looks like you. How to stay sharp, confident, and curious even when you’re underestimated. Here are a few lessons I’ve learned along the way: 1. Curiosity is your competitive edge. Knowledge is power, and curiosity keeps you dangerous. Learn beyond your area. Understand the business, the numbers, and the strategy. It’s hard to box you out of the conversation when you know as much or more than everyone else at the table. 2. Build your network — and actually use it. Men do this naturally. Women are told it’s “self-promotional.” It’s not — it’s survival. Your network can’t open doors for you if they don’t know what you’re doing or where you want to go. Talk about your work. Ask for help. Name your ambitions out loud. 3. Take risks — especially when you’re not 100% ready. Men apply for jobs when they meet 60% of the requirements. Women wait until they hit 100%. Stop waiting. Say yes to stretch roles. Try new things before you’ve mastered them. That’s where growth — and visibility — happen. 4. Trust your instincts — and walk when it’s time to go. If a culture doesn’t support women, believe what you see. You don’t owe anyone your energy or your potential. It’s not your job to fix a broken culture — it’s your job to find one that sees your value. To the women in my network: What’s the hardest lesson you’ve learned navigating male-dominated spaces?

Don’t bring your authentic self to work. Bring your professional self. This goes against almost everything we’re told. Be authentic. Be yourself. Your office is your second family. Your colleagues are your friends. I didn’t believe this either. Until a conversation at 3 am Sydney time changed how I see it. I was jet-lagged, half scrolling, half thinking, when a message from a mentee stopped me cold. “Why do people judge me for my background and not for who I am?” She’s the only woman in a team of eleven. Recently linked to a male colleague at work. Just a colleague. Just a friend. Yet suddenly, her achievements are no longer hers. Her good work is “team effort.” Client praise is “expected.” Recognition becomes “privilege,” not performance. Then came the part that hurt the most. Stories. Quietly planted. Repeated in promotion conversations. That her work success is because of him. That her merit shout-out was “help.” That her promotion trajectory is now “questionable.” A mentor pulled her aside and said something that no high performer should ever have to hear: “Why do you spend so much time with him? People are saying his work is being attributed to you. This could stop your next promotion.” And then the dots. Late nights at work. A car and driver. A luxury bag bought to celebrate a promotion. A famous celebrity diet sign up mentioned casually. A colleague walking her home after a late office party. None of these things were wrong. But together, they were stitched into a story. Not about excellence. About association. Her achievements didn’t disappear. They were simply overshadowed. That’s when the uncomfortable truth became clear. Authenticity without boundaries is a liability in unequal systems. Visibility without intent invites interpretation. And not everyone watching you is rooting for you. The lesson isn’t to shrink. Or to hide. Or to stop being yourself. The lesson is to understand the thin line between who you are and what you project. Between openness and exposure. Between being real and being protected. Focus on your work. Let your results speak. And be deliberate about the version of yourself you bring into spaces that were never neutral to begin with. Especially if you’re a woman. Especially if you’re doing well. Sometimes, professionalism isn’t about being cold. It’s about being unbreachable. And that clarity can save your career.

When Hard Work Isn’t Enough: The Career Lesson That Changed Everything Early in my career, I worked in the estate section of a large management company. My role was desk-based, but I aspired to something more analytical. When a new hire came in for that kind of role, I saw an opportunity. While she was being trained, I asked my manager if I could sit in on the sessions, provided I finished my work. He agreed. I came in early the next day, got my tasks done, and joined the training. Minutes in, the head of the unit walked in and said to the trainer: “Glory is just here to observe. Focus your full energy training the other lady.” That one sentence broke something in me. I realized in that moment that it didn’t matter how early I came in, how fast I finished my work, or how committed I was — I simply wasn’t seen as someone worth investing in. It hit me: If I wanted a sustainable career, I needed to do more than just show up and work hard. I needed to be visible. So I changed my strategy. Instead of going straight to my desk when I got to work, or having lunch at my desk, I started greeting people across departments. I learned what other teams were doing. I asked questions. I shared my interest in more analytical work. One day, the head of a different team approached me, she’d noticed I seemed interested in her department and wanted to know more about my background. We had a chat and a few weeks later, she told me about an internal opportunity. That’s how I moved into a role that truly challenged and stretched me — and my career started to take shape from there. Here’s what I learned: Yes, Working hard helps you build mastery. But if all you build is mastery, and no visibility, you may never get the opportunity to use it. If you’re always head-down, never head-up… If you’re not building cross-functional relationships… If no one knows what you’re capable of beyond your current role… You could work harder than anyone in the room and still be overlooked. Another key lesson is to know when your time in a role is up and not to spend time trying to change people’s opinions. Read the writing on the wall and plot your exit. Because sometimes, the boldest move isn’t to fight for your current space, it’s to walk toward the next one. Let them see you. Let them know what you’re capable of. And if they can’t or won’t see it, move. What lesson helped you nake a key move in your career? Please share with me in the comments

Leadership tests everyone. But it tests women differently. I had an experience that forced me to take a closer look at why. A male colleague had been creating a hostile environment. Speaking negatively about me to employees. Undermining my credibility. The kind of behavior every leader eventually has to address. So I did what leaders are supposed to do. I stayed calm and professional. I confronted the issue head on. The conversation with my colleague went well. He apologized. We moved forward. What happened next is what stayed with me. Instead of recognizing that I handled a difficult situation with maturity, the CEO, who was also present, redirected the conversation to feedback about me. He shared that this colleague viewed me as a know it all. Not because of my performance, but because in meetings I speak confidently and bring my expertise. So I asked a simple question. Is this a real behavior issue or is this a perception issue? That is when the CEO admitted something I was both appreciative of and deeply unsettled by. He said the perception existed partly because I am a woman in a room full of men. Hearing that out loud was a moment of clarity. Not because it was surprising, but because it was normalized. Acknowledged as if it were simply the cost of being the only woman at the table. Something I just had to work around. Meanwhile, those same rooms include men who raise voices, interrupt, roll their eyes, or derail conversations. Yet none of them walk out labeled as know it alls. This is the double standard women in leadership carry. If you speak up, you are too much. If you don’t, you are not enough. If you take initiative, you are difficult. If you stay quiet, you are disengaged. Leadership requires using your judgment. Bringing your expertise. Addressing issues directly. Having a voice. If a woman doing those things earns a negative label, that is NOT about her. That is about the culture around her. I will always reflect. I will always grow. But I will not shrink to make others more comfortable. Confident women are not the problem. Systems that punish confident women are. So I keep coming back to one question. If a woman knows her work, uses her expertise, and leads with professionalism, is that being a know it all or is that simply leadership? Because the answer says more about the organization than it does about her. What are you thoughts?

*When you're the only woman in the AI room, something's broken* Recently, I sat at an AI industry dinner. Great conversation. Smart people. Cutting-edge tech discussion. And I was the only woman there. Not unusual, unfortunately. But it should be. This is why initiatives like Elizabeth Parks' Women in Tech spotlight from the Parks Associates' Future of Streaming conference matter so much. Elizabeth and her team put real names and faces to the fact that women ARE leading innovation in tech and entertainment. We're building the tools. Making the deals. Shaping the future of how millions of people consume content. We're just not always visible. Here's the thing about being the only woman in rooms where decisions get made. You notice patterns others miss. You ask questions that don't occur to people who've only ever seen themselves reflected back in every meeting. You build differently because you understand users who don't look like the default. That's not feel-good diversity talk. That's a competitive advantage. AI is rewriting every industry right now, from entertainment to tech, and healthcare to finance. The companies building these tools need people who understand the full spectrum of human experience. Not just half of it. And yet here we are still having dinners where 100% of the technical expertise apparently comes from one gender. The legal industry and entertainment sector both love to talk about innovation. But innovation without diverse perspectives isn't innovation. It's just the same ideas in a shinier package. So, what changes this? Not conferences alone, though they help. Not quotas, though representation matters. What changes this is when companies actually prioritize diverse leadership in their AI strategy. Investing in women-led initiatives. Promoting women into rooms where product decisions get made. Paying women fairly for the expertise we bring. And maybe, just maybe, looking around your next AI strategy meeting and asking why everyone looks the same. What's keeping women out of AI leadership in your industry? And more importantly, what are you doing about it? H/t to Spence Bovee of Westside Digital Mix for being an incredible ally! ✌️