Nice Girls Don’t Get The Corner Office.

Nice girls don't get the corner office

I worked my butt off these last few years climbing the corporate ladder and found that one doesn’t get anywhere by being “nice”.   Especially if you work alongside the male counterpart.

I did. For a very long time.

The only chick in a sizable team, I was initially taken aback by the boisterous, aggressive and seemingly belligerent behaviours displayed by my male colleagues in the boardroom. In my first of many boardroom meetings, I would sit there without a word or movement in my new pink suit that nicely framed my perky bosom, as if someone’s cut off my tongue and immobilised my petite frame. Whenever I tried to say anything remotely intelligent, they’d throw me a stare of dismissal like I had no business being there.

“Hey, I’ve got a masters degree and a list of contacts you can only dream of”. I’d cry inside my head.

Confused and intimidated by it all, I resolved to be “one of the boys” – a beer-drinking, straight-talking, emotionally-repressed workaholic in high heels. Add power-dressing to my daily repertoire and there I was in no time at all, basking in the glory of my boardroom triumph. I finally looked, walked and talked like the boys, therefore “I must be one of them.”

Men relate to logic.  That much I’ve learnt.

No doubt, life at work was a breeze soon after. My colleagues called me ‘mate’ and my boss referred to me as “Robbo”. Not exactly an endearing salutation for a sweet little thing but rumours say, in men-speak, it means he regards me as an equal.

And, yes. I got my corner office with a view and a big fat pay-rise that matched the boys.

I was happy with that.  For a little while anyway.