When I joined the team, I was careful—observing, listening, soaking in the dynamics before speaking. Dave, a longtime colleague, dominated meetings with jokes that flopped—but he laughed anyway.
In my second week, during one meeting, he flashed a patronizing grin and dropped this gem: “You’re smart, but you’re not really leadership material. Women aren’t—nothing personal.” The room buzzed—but I didn’t respond. I only smiled and stored that line in my memory.
Over the months, I tackled the tough tasks, fixed what others broke, and led quietly—without title or fanfare. Dave kept talking; I kept delivering.
Then came the opening: a team lead role. Dave announced himself “basically a lock.” I applied too.
I got the job. Silence fell. Dave didn’t speak to me for days. When he finally did, his first question was: “Do I still have to report to you?”
