Cracks in the Ceiling, Power in the Seams
The Smile That Was Never the Problem
The morning my promotion was floated upstairs, I felt electric.
My numbers were bullet‑proof, my team glowed, my calendar read like a marathon. By every metric, I was ready.
Then one sentence muttered by a male peer —soft, almost lazy—knocked the air out of the room: “She seems stressed too often; she doesn’t come across as warm... smiley... approachable.”
Just like that, the conversation shifted. Not toward my qualifications, or my track record, or the business results I had delivered. But toward my tone. My vibe. My face.
The nomination quietly disappeared from the table. And I was left with that familiar, infuriating feeling: I had done everything right — and it still wasn’t enough.
I raised this to our SVP – a smart, capable and somewhat empathetic (white male), who apologized and said, “I’m sorry, there was nothing I could do … you’ll have to wait until the next submission cycle”. Spoiler alert – there was no next cycle.
Naming the Ceiling
That moment stayed with me — not just because of what it cost me, but because of what it revealed.
Glass doesn’t always explode. Sometimes it settles silently between you and the sky—visible only when your forehead meets it. It shows up in coded feedback, offhand comments, and moving goalposts. It’s not that women aren’t seen as competent. It’s that the definition of “leadership” still quietly defaults to someone else: usually male, often assertive, and never asked to smile more.
What derailed me wasn’t performance. It was perception.
And that’s the trap. Women are expected to perform and conform. To be decisive but not difficult, strategic but not threatening, polished but also “pleasant.” I’ve lived it — doing the job and managing how the job looked on me.
My POV: Read the Room, Then Rewrite the Playbook
After that promotion fallout, I was angry. But more than that — I was awake. I started paying attention differently. I listened to how things were said in meetings. Who got credit. Who got interrupted. Whose tone was labeled “passionate” and whose was “aggressive.” And I started learning the game I wasn’t taught.
Because here’s the truth: to shatter the ceiling, you must first map its seams. And a big part of that is corporate politics.
Corporate politics isn’t a dirty word; it’s the unwritten operating system of every organization. If we don’t understand it, we run on outdated software while others speed ahead with the latest upgrade.
Ignoring politics doesn’t make them disappear—it just means someone else is writing the rules. Mastering them lets you advance and pave paths for others.
This isn’t about being fake. It’s about being strategic.
It’s about positioning, presence, and power — and understanding how decisions really get made.
I started learning how to advocate for myself before the room was full. I sought out allies at the right levels. I learned how to plant seeds early, how to echo my own wins through others, and how to read a power dynamic in a room with the same precision I used to read a project brief. Yes, I smiled more when it served me—and no, it didn’t dilute my authenticity. It amplified my effectiveness. Soon I was coaching other women to do the same.
Yes, we need to shift the narrative. But we also need to win inside it while it’s still being rewritten.
Know the Game. Then Change It.
If you’ve ever wondered how much more you must do (or grin) to be promoted, you’re not imagining things—and you’re not alone. Across our industry, brilliant women are delivering results while still being judged on their energy or their face.
Here’s the truth: you can master the system without selling out. You can be kind and powerful, visible and unapologetic.
If you’ve been holding your breath, waiting for the right time, the right look, the right nod — exhale. This is your moment. You’re not missing anything. The rules were just written without you in mind. Learn them. Rewrite them. Rise anyway — and when you do, light the way for the next woman coming up behind you.
