Why Women Fear Success

More and more women are in leadership positions in the American workplace. And I learned recently that 40% of households now have females as the primary breadwinner. We see more role models every day of women in powerful positions in politics, business, and human services. So all of us women who have owned our inner authority and are expressing this in the world have a lot to be proud of. Our voices have the potential to bring balance to a system that has gone too far in the direction of domination and control. As women, we have empathy for what it feels like to be the underdog. We’ve been there. Historically, women’s roles have necessitated supporting a system where our voice is not listened to. It has only been since the 1960’s that women have been speaking up in large numbers.

The Women’s Liberation Movement called attention to an experience that I myself was feeling at the time. In the early to mid 1960’s I was working as a research psychologist in a big company, supporting my husband through dental school. I was the family’s sole breadwinner, a role of power in most households. But in my own mind I felt like a second class citizen because, not only was I working 8 hours a day and commuting 3 hours, but I was also doing all the cooking, the laundry, the cleaning, and the social planning in our little household of two. And ironically, he was the one who was too tired to have sex at night. So, needless to say, this was not the life I had hoped for.

Since that time, even though my life is wonderful now, I have not lost my empathy for the many women who still feel they need to work harder than the men around them. There is something in the collective psyche of women that seems to be saying, “In order to prove myself, to prove that ‘I can do it,’ I need to say ‘yes’ to things that I would probably say ‘no’ to if I felt more secure.”

In the late 1970’s I conducted a research study* of highly successful women which corroborated this conclusion. The motivation for this research grew out my own personal pain and frustration. At the time, I had a big important job that most ambitious women of the day would be envious of. I knew I had a great job, but it felt like I was working all the time, still not getting everything done, and having no time for self-care. To see how other women’s experience compared to mine, I did in-depth interviews 35 women who held positions of prestige and authority in business, government, law, education, and the media. There were no female CEO’s of Fortune 500 at that time, but I did interview several Vice Presidents, as well as a few Presidents of smaller companies, a Federal judge, a TV producer, a college President, and a number of top level managers. The purpose of my research was to ascertain how women perceived the “costs” of their newly acquired “success.” I was shocked at what I found. I had expected that many of them would tell me that their success had come at some cost to their feminine side. By feminine side I mean that aspect of one’s being that places a high value on inclusiveness, listening, supportiveness, building relationships (vs one-way communication), caring about the good of the whole, and nurturing—including self-nurturing. What I found was that every single woman in my study, at some point in the interview, told me something like this: “I probably am not taking very good care of myself, but I like the power that comes with this position. I can’t afford to think about ‘costs of success.’ I’m afraid that would be a distraction from how much I have to get done every day. There’s no room in this world for feelings—especially MY feelings.”

When I compared answers like this to my own experience, I felt differently. I was the only female professor in my department at a large, well-respected Eastern University. I had gained enough visibility on campus to be considered for a job in the University Administration as Assistant Provost. And I was going home from work everyday and crying about how I felt “over-worked and under-loved.” As I look back on those difficult times, I see that I was over-working and under-loving myself. Have you ever felt like this?

Perhaps it is part of women’s nature to work non-stop. Or maybe this is due to our cultural history. But, wherever this tendency comes from, it erodes a woman’s self-esteem when she does not take good care of herself. What good does it do us to have the esteem of our colleagues if we feel tired, fat, and frazzled?

I think self-care is at the root of high self-confidence and self-esteem. And I am not just talking about physical self-care. When I say self-care, I am actually referring to having a good emotional relationship with yourself, which means you know, accept, and love yourself, and know how to give yourself guidance and feedback toward the goal of manifesting your intentions.

A primary component of self-love seems to be the ability to know and express one’s needs and wants. And a primary component of self-confidence is a woman’s willingness to voice or to express her gifts, talents and insights. Both of these things require that the woman in question be willing to call attention to herself. Why does this often seem to be so risky for women?

I think we will find part of the answer if we look at the historical forces that have punished women for speaking up. Ever since The Inquisition, when women who spoke out were burned as witches, there has been social pressure on women to stay out of the way of the male-dominated power structure. If a woman gets aggressive in a meeting, she’ll be labeled a ball-buster and discounted. If a man exhibits this same behavior, it is more likely that people will fear and respect him.

Women who are sensitive to collective energies report having “cellular memory” of being tortured as witches during The Inquisition. In an interview I heard recently with Marianne Williamson, she alludes to having such memories. I personally have access to such memories, also. And recently I have accessed another similar memory of being dominated and abused. This memory emerged while I was having a very intense body work session from a practitioner of The Amanae Technique. In this memory I felt myself as an early Cro-Magnan female (or thereabouts) just slightly higher than an ape, being forceably raped from behind by my male counterpart. I tried to resist, and I even screamed, but he easily overpowered me with his greater physical strength. When it was over, he threw me on the ground as if to throw me away. I was left with a feeling of complete helplessness. I knew that I could be forced to do things against my will by someone of greater physical strength. I can only imagine that, in order to assure my survival, I quickly learned to subjugate my needs to those of the men. I probably learned to deny my needs altogether—to avoid feeling the inner conflict between my real needs and what I deemed as realistic.

Both women and men have come a long way since these times. We have learned that we need each other and that when one person or group tries to dominate another, there will be some sort of backlash. Yes, we have matured, but these cellular memories have not faded altogether. So, as women, we need to be vigilant not to let our voices—our needs and our wisdom—get quelled by fear.

Men have been tortured and killed too for speaking their mind. Christ, Martin Luther King, Robert Kennedy are a few martyred heroes who come to mind. So it is not just a woman’s issue. Being courageously authentic can be dangerous to your physical well-being. So both genders have work to do to deal with our historically and culturally conditioned reluctance to rock the boat. But anyone who lives in fear is not confident. Confidence is the trust that you will be okay no matter what the outcome, and it results from taking risks—without knowing what the outcome of your actions will be.

One of the primary tools for building both self-esteem (self-love) and confidence (trust of the unknown) is honest, self-aware communication—with oneself and others. In the body of work I have developed, called The Getting Real Work, I teach specific awareness practices called “truth skills,” that help people notice all the ways they are not in touch with—i.e. not in good relationship with—themselves. This is the place we all must begin from—an honest, non defensive look at ourselves as we are. Then Getting Real guides us to use our relationships with others as vehicles for mutual healing. We need other people as mirrors, teachers, fellow journeyors. When other people criticize us or judge us, this can “push our buttons.” In Getting Real, we learn how to value getting our buttons pushed and how to use this uncomfortable experience to come into deeper relationship with oneself. At the same time as we are learning how to have a positive, nurturing relationship with ourselves, we are also overcoming your fears of being criticized, rejected, disrespected, and the like—because Getting Real shows us how to be there for ourselves when we feel alone and unloved. With "Truth Skill #1, we learn to "experience what is," and be with painful feelings rather than trying to deny or get on top of them.

If you’re going to be an adult, you need to know how to nurture your inner child. If you aren’t able to give yourself loving attention when you need it, you’re going to be going through life in fear that someone is going to push your buttons. Fear of getting your buttons pushed is one of the biggest motivators in ordinary human beings. A true adult is someone who is not afraid of emotional discomfort. And as you get used to living your life using the Getting Real skills, you’ll find that fewer and fewer situations push your buttons. The journey starts with noticing all the ways you try to avoid emotional pain or discomfort. Then you learn how to be with yourself in a nurturing way when pain gets triggered. Then, as a natural consequence of being less afraid, you’ll find yourself taking more risks and becoming more self-assured. And finally, as you continue to do these practices, you’ll discover that very few people, if any, push you buttons anymore! This last discovery might take a year or two or more. But it does happen.

*footnote: Campbell, Susan. “Women and Success,” The Humanistic Psychology Institute Review, Volume 1, Number 1, Summer 1978.