Tomorrow I’m dropping off my daughter for her freshman year in college. So life has been busy lately—with lots of first and lasts and hellos and goodbyes. The writing bug has been hard to grasp.

It’s times like these that I tend to write different types of Comes Now issues. They are more philosophical than researched and don’t have as many citations. Bear with me as I meander a bit—because that’s the way my mind is working this week.

Last week’s issue of Comes Now was not my most popular. I don’t mean that it got fewer likes, comments, impressions, or other kinds of social media engagement. While some readers agreed with the observations in the issue, other readers were surprised that I expressed an ambivalence—and in some places a little bit of hostility—towards women’s empowerment programs. After all, as someone who regularly talks about women supporting women, shouldn’t I support programs that even purport to give women a space to do that?

At first when I thought about the feedback—both public and private—I assumed that the reactions were a function of age. Senior women like me were more cynical, while younger women wanted—and needed—to applaud their employers’ offerings. In fact, I spoke to several more senior women who were concerned that the younger women in their offices embrace their employers’ women’s programs too easily, even when those programs fall far short of what is needed.

And assuming age was the reason for the difference makes some superficial sense. Younger lawyers want different things out of their women’s programs than more senior lawyers do. For example, last week’s issue talked about “gap fill” programs that teach women specific skills so that they’ll show up with more “gravitas.” As a senior woman, I would resent a program like that because I’ve more than earned my gravitas, whether I show that gravitas in a stereotypically male way or not.

But I remember being a younger attorney. I so frequently felt out-of-my-depth that I sought to acquire skills—any skills—that would alleviate those feelings of inadequacy. I read law review articles, took CLEs, and embraced all opportunities to learn from more senior lawyers. Some of my former colleagues still recall that when I started my first job at a class action firm, I took home volumes of Newberg on Class Actions every night to read. Back then, if my law firm had offered skill-based training designed to increase my gravitas, I wouldn’t have been offended. In fact, I would have been the first to sign up. I would not have rejected the premise that I lacked gravitas because I was absolutely certain I didn’t have it.

It also makes sense that younger women would not complain as loudly. It’s more difficult to demand something better when you’re a younger attorney. It’s challenging enough to negotiate your salary and bonus, to ask for better assignments, and solicit feedback about your performance. But it’s even harder to tackle issues that may be more complicated and nuanced, like suggesting that your employer’s “women’s program” may not actually be helpful to women.

If you’re lucky, your perspectives shift when you’re older. You gain some confidence and are therefore more comfortable just throwing yourself into new situations, knowing that you’ll figure it out. Rather than just reading books and listening to CLEs, you learn by doing: by failing and then figuring out a way to do it better. More importantly, as we get older we’re simply more opinionated and less afraid to share those opinions. We don’t mind being known as a pain in the ass. We want to speak for women who may feel less comfortable doing so.

We also seek and form communities differently at different stages of our careers. Although I didn’t realize it at the time, as a young lawyer I was desperate for community, particularly relationships with other women who would support my growth. For that reason, I jumped at any opportunity to attend a women’s program—even ones that perhaps deep-down I knew were mostly cosmetic. As we get older, even though we still have the same need for community, we aren’t as eager to have one thrust upon us by our employer. If we want community, we build it ourselves.

But Really

While I think generational differences can account for profound differences in perception, I don’t think that’s the full explanation for why women reacted so differently to last week’s issue. In addition to all of the above, one of the biggest differences in the way we perceive women’s programs in the workplace—as well as virtually any other issue related to feminism—depends on whether and how much we’ve reckoned with our own internalized misogyny.

Internalized misogyny is a big mouthful for feelings of inadequacy or contempt based on your gender. It’s narratives that we get from other people, or society at large, that ultimately become a part of us. Quietly, without even noticing, we start to believe these things. That we shouldn’t complain and just suck it up. That we should defer to those who are in power. That we need to earn our right to be there. That we’re just so damn lucky to be in the room.

Once we see what we have internalized, we begin to see that cheering for our employers’ “best efforts” at achieving gender equity may actually do more harm than good. We don’t want to be enablers anymore. We no longer want to be grateful for nibbles of what we deserve.

Am I saying that every woman who believes her employer’s women’s program is a success has internalized misogyny? Of course not. There are some employers who are doing it right, or at least far better than most. But when we see other women so readily accept less-than-good programs, we should remember how very long it took us to see things as they are. And remember that, even when we think we’ve analyzed all of our past experiences so thoroughly that we see them clearly, we have only just touched the surface.

It takes a long time for illusions to fade, especially when we adopted them in order to survive.

Next week I’m going to talk about a book that quite uncomfortably discusses internalized misogyny. Stay tuned to next week for that discussion.

Share Comes Now!

If you’re enjoying this newsletter, please share it with others and encourage them to subscribe. I draft it on Beehiiv (Comes Now (beehiiv.com)) and distribute it on Tuesday evening, but also post the issue as a LinkedIn newsletter on Wednesday mornings.

Have a topic you’d like me to address? Want to tell me where I got something right or wrong? Send me an email at [email protected].