Think about it:

• The U.S. President? Debatable. But society chose him.
• Women “belong in the kitchen”? Nope. Society put them there.
• A $1,400 iPhone? Ridiculous. Yet society keeps buying.

You see the pattern? What we think is “normal” is just repetition in disguise—echoes of old systems that no longer serve us. So when people say, “It’s hard to get a job in this industry,” ask yourself: Is it the industry that’s the problem, or is it the way it’s been presented? The way it’s been run? The way we’ve been told to behave within it?

Let’s flip the script for a second:

Imagine if construction were a woman-dominated industry. Would we all show up in heels with pink binders and perfect nails? Aside from being a safety hazard, it’s a completely ridiculous image. This stereotype alone is proof of how deep the bias runs. The assumption that femininity means incompetence—or worse, that women only succeed through manipulation or proximity to men—is not just offensive. It’s exhausting.

Because here’s the truth: 

Women can run companies. Lead teams. Close deals. Build skyscrapers and balance budgets—without sleeping with the boss. Without changing who we are. Without fitting into anyone else’s mold. 

And yet, here we are. Still being told we’re “too sensitive,” “too raw,” “too loud.” You know what? Good. Let’s be too much. Let’s be powerful, unfiltered, and unapologetically real.

You want to know why it’s hard to find a job in this industry? 
Because it wasn’t built with us in mind. 
But that doesn’t mean we don’t belong here.

So no—I’m not following the path just because it’s the one others took. 

I’m not dimming who I am because someone else made choices that cost them their place. 

I’m not here to repeat society’s expectations, to play a role without my input. 

I’m here to define my own success—on my own terms.

I’m not asking for much—just what should already be standard: a job I’m qualified for, a fair paycheck, a life where the basics don’t feel like luxury. Time to breathe. A vacation I don’t have to justify. A glass of wine and a good book at the end of a week I earned—without shame, without stress, without guilt.

But instead, I’m met with silence when I speak up. Skepticism when I succeed. Lower pay for the same role. Higher standards I never agreed to. And a quiet, constant battle for basic respect.

Why?

Because I’m a woman.

So yes, the struggle is real. But is it because the industry itself is broken? Not entirely. It’s because the system around it—the narratives, the structures, the biases—are still wired to doubt us, dismiss us, and delay our growth. That’s what needs to change.

And that change? It starts with us—and it starts now.