When my business was acquired, the new leader's decisions were discussed, analyzed, and critiqued. And more than once, his choices were explained away with a familiar shorthand: “He was a business man.” “That's what business men do.”
I sat with that for a long time.
Because I wondered, what then was I?
Was it not I, the “business person,” who created an organizational foundation that outlasted more than half of all founders? Who built something that beat the 97% of Black women-owned businesses that do not survive past five years? Who surpassed the 63% of women founders who never see revenue in year one? Who joined the 2% of women-owned businesses that scale beyond one million dollars in annual revenue?
Or the woman who built something someone else saw enough value in for the “business man” to want in the first place?
Yet somehow, I was just a girl. Who founded a school.
I have a friend who co-founded and leads a nonprofit. She is brilliant, credible, and deeply effective. And in a Board meeting, a female Board member told her that she did not “look” like a CEO in her LinkedIn posts.
Her posts showed her speaking to rooms full of inspired women, enjoying hard-earned time off on vacation, and spending time with the people her organization actually served. However, she was criticized for “twerking” with Santa at a holiday event, carrying a designer bag, and for showing up as a woman who does not look like she needs anything. Let alone funding.
But I want to ask a sincere question. Would you follow someone who looks broke? Would you trust your resources, your time, your belief, your loved ones to someone who appears to have nothing to show for their own effort?
We follow people who look like it's working. And then we penalize them when it does.
According to Fortune 500 data, there are zero active companies on the Fortune 500 list that were founded by a woman. Zero. And yet women-owned and male-owned small businesses survive at nearly identical rates. The gap is not performance. It is perception. It is not a woman’s operational efficiency that costs her, it is the bias against her.
The research on what people actually want in a leader tells a different story than the one my friend’s Board member told. Honesty. Clear communication. Accountability. Active listening. Emotional intelligence. Decisiveness. Strategic vision. The ability to problem-solve. These are the characteristics that people desire in a leader. They are also the characteristics of the most effective leaders.
Not a particular kind of bag. Not a specific kind of social media post. Not a carefully curated expression of hustle and scarcity.
None of the traits people genuinely seek in leaders have anything to do with what she looks like on a Thursday evening in December, dancing with Santa.
Here is what I have observed about criticism. We are most vocal about the things we are most conflicted about in ourselves. The person who calls other women ugly rarely believes she is beautiful. Hit dogs holler. It only bothers you when it hits home. Your strongest criticism of someone else is simply a window into the voice you use to condemn yourself. Which means the Board member's comment told us far less about my friend and far more about what the Board member believes about her own right to take up space, to rest, and to be seen thriving.
When you truly love yourself, it’s hard to criticize others.
In 1 Samuel, God sends the prophet Samuel to the house of Jesse to anoint the next king of Israel. Jesse lines up his sons, starting with the oldest. Eliab walks in and Samuel is ready. Eliab looks the part. He is tall, impressive, everything you would cast in the role. But God says no. The Lord does not look at the things people look at. People look at the outward appearance, but the Lord looks at the heart.
Son after son is presented to Eliab and each time God says no. Seven of them. And finally Samuel asks Jesse, are these all your sons? And Jesse mentions the youngest, David who was out tending the sheep. So sure he wasn’t “the one,” Jesse had not even invited David to the occasion.
But he was the one.
David. The shepherd boy. The youngest. The one nobody sent for. The one who probably smelled like sheep and outside (ifykyk) and had no idea what was about to happen to his life. God looked at him and saw a king.
The world will always have a picture of what leadership is supposed to look like. Serious. Understated. Performing. Proving. But God has never been in the business of confirming the world's categories.
He has always been in the business of choosing the one nobody sent for.
It’s okay to look like it is working. It’s okay to rest in public. It’s okay to dance, to carry the bag, and to show up as a woman who has built something real and knows it.
That doesn’t undermine your credibility, it proves it, and points to the One who gave it to you.
Consider…
Is there a woman in your life or industry whose success, ease, or visibility has made you uncomfortable?
What does that discomfort tell you about what you believe you are allowed to have or show?
What would it look like to lead, and be seen leading, without conforming to what you think people expect a leader to look like?
I love you.
Coi Marie
Affirmations:
I am allowed to lead like it is working. Because it is.
My ease is not arrogance and my joy is not performance. It is evidence.
If this landed for you, pass it on. First time reading? Catch up at afteramen.org.
