I'm Not Ready to Do This
I couldn’t breathe. The gasp that I attempted to swallow was lodged in the back of my throat like a pig in a python. It felt like a fire was blazing through my veins and for the first time in months, menopause was not to blame. My legs began to stiffen, emulating the tree trunks around me, as I stared in horror at the path before me.
I’m not ready to do this.
The six of us had just unloaded our mountain bikes (MTB) from the bike park chairlift in Lake Tahoe. Looking at the massive, wooden berms lining the trail, the reason for being the token female of this group - and a member of the minuscule minority on the mountain - became crystal clear. Wooden berms are built to assist the rider through a maze of trees but if momentum is lost during the turn, one will slide to their demise. Trying to be “one of the boys” will be the death of me yet, personally and professionally!
To add fuel to my fear, MTB was a spanking new sport for me. Inspired by COVID and its preferred method of outdoor play, my new hobby was a mere three months old. Evidenced by the constellation of scars on my shins, my husband and I had been riding mostly single tracks in the Santa Monica mountains. Yes, those trails were steep and rocky but navigating 12 foot wooden berms through a tight tree line would be a new feat.
I’m not ready to do this.
This is not the first time - nor the last - that these words bombed my brainwaves. When I was presented with the opportunity to become President of Commission Junction (CJ), the 300-person affiliate marketing division of ValueClick, I stated the same to myself and others. Fortunately, I was ignored and appointed to the helm in 2007 where I remained until I left in 2015.
Why? Why do we - especially women - doubt ourselves? Unlike MTB, I was not “new” to CJ before my promotion. I had started at its sister division eight years prior as an entry-level account manager and had risen through the ranks, working with our largest clients and managing significant teams. In short, I had much to learn but had climbed the necessary stepping stones for success.
According to Reshma Saujani, founder of Girls Who Code, “we’re raising our girls to be perfect, and we’re raising our boys to be brave.” Resha is right. I believed that to qualify for the position of President, I needed the creative mind of Steve Jobs; intellect of Marissa Mayer; and leadership style of Meg Whitman. Most of us are also familiar with the oft-quoted Hewlett Packard study: “women only apply for open jobs if they think they meet 100 percent of the criteria listed. Men apply if they think they meet 60 percent of the requirements.” This gal was ADDING to the list of criteria required to be President of CJ.
Having a high bar can inspire excellence but it can also serve as a hindrance, mentally blocking us from great opportunities.
The five boys barreled down the mountain with reckless abandon, hooting and hollering at every turn. I gripped my brakes like I did my Mother’s hand on the first day of preschool while my eyes screamed, “please don’t leave me!” These were not professionals. These were weekend riders, Fathers and finance guys, every one of them north of 50. Yet, they flew across the dirt as if they were 15. “Being old” and the potential impact to their safety was of no concern to these dirt divas. Yet, delayed reaction time, declining bone density, deteriorating muscles and every other sign of aging crossed my mind as I debated my descent.
I’m not ready to do this. Hell, I’m too old to do this.
On the field or in the office, I often think about the role of testosterone in “being brave.” I had recently read The Story of Testosterone, the Hormone that Dominates and Divides Us by Carole Hooven, who is an evolutionary biologist and professor at Harvard. Since the dawn of time, the male species - animals and humans - have been programmed by testosterone to achieve reproductive success, forcing them to compete with one another in order to do so. The “king of the jungle” is often the biggest, most aggressive and overall, a very confident cat. Are these not the same traits that also breed success in most workplaces?
According to Carole, “...relative to male animals, females benefit more from being safe and cautious and living a long, healthy life. And lower levels of aggression help to make that possible.” Caregiver anyone? In today’s hyper-competitive corporate environment, being “safe and cautious” is a fast track to being last.
If men are born to be aggressive and women to be safe, how are we to be successful in an environment that favors the opposite sex?
Nurture must win. Back to Resha’s point, women must be bred to be brave. It’s never too late to start shouting to ourselves and others, “fuck perfection” and “hello uncertainty!” I’m so tired of men with less experience throwing their hat in the ring while incredible women sit on the sidelines, shaking with the fear of failure. Having worked directly for seven male CEOs, I can tell you that NONE of them had any clue at the onset of their tenure. Not one. They learned - and are still learning - along the way.
My hands began to soften, releasing the brakes from my death grip and allowing the tires to spin. I wasn’t ready but I felt a blip of bravery. I hit the first berm and held my breath as my momentum carried me safely to the other side. Putting my stress to the test, I leaned forward and began to pedal with purpose in every turn. Some descents felt like I was flying and some like I was surviving. But, I wasn’t afraid to dismount when the terrain told me to and follow my husband’s line when I failed to see it.
Looking back, I had an absolute blast and most importantly, the bike park greatly accelerated my MTB learning curve. I did it bitches!
I will confess that one of us did end up in the ER that day. It wasn’t me. :)