Being Geek Chic is a blog about one woman navigating the male-dominated industries of production and tech. It's written by Elizabeth Giorgi, Founder, CEO and Director of Mighteor - one of the world's first internet video production companies. Learn more about Mighteor here.
Next week, I’m giving a talk at the Women in Entrepreneurship Conference at the Carlson School of Management on the topic of being a vulnerable badass. If you’re around, it’s a free conference and I’d love to meet you in person. But here’s the real rub of this whole thing: In prepping for this talk, I’ve been doing a lot of reflection on how I see myself. Self-reflection - to me - is the art of taking in a lot of other people’s opinions, keeping the ones you like and discarding the ones that suck. As a result of going through this exercise, I’ve come to the conclusion that this is how I see myself:
Yes, that is a cotton candy wearing a leather jacket. I know. It’s weird. But it’s truly revolutionary in terms of my understanding of myself. Here’s why:
For years and years in various jobs, I excelled at my work despite not always excelling at interpersonal relationships in those settings. Don’t get me wrong, I always loved my team and we always did amazing things together. But then those annual performance reviews would come around and people who didn’t work with me every day or the boss of my boss would get to chime in on my performance and I would hear things like: Liz is Aggressive. Pushy. Forward. Harsh. Intense.
The quality of my work was never in question. My ability to do my job at a high level was always understood. But those other things, they stuck. And I couldn’t understand why I was seen this way.
I saw myself as: Driven. Excited. Passionate. Engaged. And Invested.
Over time, the things I saw myself as became less and less top of mind and I started to feel like I was taking on these negative identities that were ascribed to me. After years and years of hearing the same things over and over despite my every effort to evolve and change, I gave up on being less aggressive, pushy, forward, harsh and intense.
Instead, I decided to own it.
Because this was the thing that I knew deep down: I really gave a shit and that was better than not caring about the work at all. Some bosses and colleagues got it. And some didn’t. And that was OK.
I have to tell you: since starting my own business, that leather jacket identity has been my floatation device, my security blanket and my most comfortable skin. It has helped me deal with the fear, isolation and doubt of being an entrepreneur like a champ.
However, what I’m slowly learning is that the soft is OK too. The soft can be comforting. It can be a quiet refuge when you just don’t want to boss anymore. It can be a safe space to admit that you don’t know what you’re doing. And it can be the door to asking a mentor for help.
The soft… it can also be for others. For the people you hope to inspire, engage and collaborate with.
A few months ago, I was struggling with an employee and I was at a crossroads. My tough decision about how to proceed with this personnel issue had a unique overlap: It tapped into both my sense of investment in my business AND my desire to engage others in it. And yet, I knew what I had to do - I had to part ways with this person. To my team, I was decisive and probably insensitive. I told them bluntly why we had to move forward the way we did and I could see that they were longing for a softer side to the situation. Truthfully, I was devastated. But showing people that side of my personality had not been my forte.
I won’t tell you that it was an ah-ha moment. It wasn’t. But it was the beginning of a series of long conversations I’ve had with myself about the value of sharing the soft. Over the last year, I’ve decided to let my team, my clients and my business partners see the softer side of me more often, sometimes even in unexpected ways.
I talked about loving kittens and shared adorable dog videos. I gushed about the elaborate dates my boyfriend would plan. And I cried openly after my stepmom died. I still cry about it sometimes.
You see, I’m soft. I’m soft as a puffy cotton candy on a warm summer day. But I reserve that side of myself for very few people and situations.
However, it’s time for a coming out party. It’s time to be more willing to share that side of myself with everyone. And the way to do it is by positively reinforcing the good in it.
If you’re a manager or boss who is about to tell a woman that she is too aggressive, too pushy, or too rude - think again. I’m guessing she has a ball of sparkly yarn somewhere in her heart. She’s just waiting for the right moment to reveal it.
Here’s a secret about me: Twelve months ago, I hated vulnerability. I hated feeling vulnerable. I hated being in a vulnerable situation. I hated the definition of vulnerable. I hated even having the word associated in my general direction. Me and vulnerability weren’t on good terms.
Then something crazy happened. I broke up with my boyfriend. Ok, that’s not all that crazy. But here was the thing: no one knew. I was so mortified by the way we broke up that I didn’t tell my family. I didn’t tell my friends. I told my employees I had to move - the rest was implied. In addition to hating vulnerability, I am also an incredibly proud person. This combination is deadly when it comes to grown-up life. It manifests itself in all sorts of ways: I delay going to the doctor when I should. I never ask for help when carrying large, heavy objects. This has hurt my back and my pride more than a few times. But it’s also been incredibly useful. I get shit done. My feelings go unhurt most of the time. I am never overly sensitive to harsh feedback and can usually look at things pretty logically.
Heartbreak is different, though. It’s not logical. It’s not avoidable. It’s presence always lurking for longer than you’d expect. In the midst of my breakup and move out, I had to cancel a meeting with a client. I figured it was no big deal, but when she called me back, she said:
“What are you doing?”
It was routine. It was plain. I could have avoided the truth. Instead, I told her.
“I am attempting to pack up my life and move out of this house and not fall apart.”
I was immediately embarrassed to have let my guard down. To have told her the honest truth was not my plan. My plan was to bullshit. To reschedule. I failed.
“I’m coming over.”
When you consider yourself a badass, you don’t want to be associated with anything that will make you feel decidedly un-badass. You don’t want to be seen in your worst sweats. You don’t want to be seen with your makeup all over your face. You don’t want to be seen sobbing. Or failing to eat. Or breathe. Or function. And I know I was ALL of those things in that moment. I was failing at being a functional human adult, let alone being a badass. But I did something that day that I’m still surprised by: I let this client help me. I let her sit with me while Beyonce songs played and I cried and packed my coffee mugs and vases. I let her see me at my worst. I trusted that she would still want to work with me when it was all over.
Spoiler: She did. We continue to work together in a business capacity today.
But even better, she became one of my closest friends that day. She became a confidant. A sister of sorts. And my secret keeper. She saw a badass in pain AND chose to know that I was more. She chose to forget that image and retain the one of the leather jacket-wearing Liz that I’m so proud to be. She chose to help a badass get back to her badassery.
This event has taught me a tremendous amount about myself. This is just a highlight reel of those things, but if you’re struggling to let the real pain you’re facing see the light of day - I suggest you open that window. The truth is that being an entrepreneur is an isolating and exhausting life choice. Closing ourselves off from our feelings and emotions only prevents us from growing as professionals and as people. I became a better business woman in the months after this client helped me move. And it was because we now had a report that was entirely open, entirely free of pretense and built on a foundation of: “hey, it’s OK. I know you’re a badass - even when you’re not.”
Vulnerability allows a badass to… Understand that pain is powerful force for good. It makes us empathize and sympathize with one another. It gives us the capacity to give to someone when they need it and accept that gift in return.
Vulnerability allows a badass to… Get past the pretense and see the real person. Knowing the people you’re working with closely gives all of us a deeper relationship. The team becomes stronger. The work becomes more personal.
Vulnerability allows a badass to… Have a healthy dose of fear when taking big risks. That reality check makes us better planners, better leaders and better partners.
Vulnerability allows a badass to… Focus on the real heart of your story. It gives us the clarity to see what really makes our business and our people special. It allows us to be better bosses who understand and appreciate our employees and their paths that led us together. It provides tremendous insight into our clients because it allows us to respect that they have pain points as a business too and alleviating those pains is what will give us the ability to be a truly powerful team.
Vulnerability allows a badass to… See beyond the logical goals and missions of an organization and appreciate the human element of everything we do. At Mighteor, we tell stories. And the best stories are always a little bit random.
Vulnerability allows a badass to… Ask for help when we need it. Whether that’s hiring more support. Turning to a colleague and having the courage to ask them to pitch in. Or giving the boss the true picture of what is really happening in the moment, so they can make it better.
Vulnerability allows a badass to… Truly celebrate the real wins. When my colleague and friend’s business successfully raised $3 Million - I cried. I felt completely part of that victory. I felt so proud. I felt so honored to have been part of the journey.
If you’re afraid of vulnerability - maybe ask yourself why. Because it’s not making you stronger. In fact, it’s probably making you weaker. And as any good badass knows, weakness is never the goal.
Every time a new year rolls around, I find myself wistfully wondering: what did I learn this year that I can take into the next year? Most years, it’s very tangible things: I learned to crochet or how to do a certain type of animation. But this year? This year is all heady stuff about being a woman person.
THINGS I LEARNED ABOUT BEING A WOMAN IN 2015:
1. Being Brave Pays Off in Confidence. When self-help gurus and therapists and miscellaneous humans in your social circle talk about bravery, they are probably talking about going on a scary hike. Or running a marathon in the winter. Or confronting an estranged family member. Accomplishing those things will pay off in confidence - so the same principle is applied. But what they often aren’t talking about is those moments when you’re stretching beyond your own knowns and exploring the confines of your own emotional bandwidth. There is no hike in the world that is more scary than facing your demons. But facing them is worth it.
2. Friendship is NOT Optional. My girlfriends are the reason I am happy and healthy and feel full of hope. Isolating oneself doesn’t work. Friendship does. <3
3. Getting Sexed will not make you FEEL Sexier. As a single woman, it can be really easy to assume that getting laid will be the answer. One night stands and random make out sessions can be a blast. I am not anti-getting sexed. But do it for the right reason. And do it because it’s fun. The alternative is depressing.
4. You Can Live on Luna Bars, Coffee and Bananas. In the months when I wasn’t sure where I was living, I didn’t want to buy groceries, because storing them seemed like such a pain. For three months, this was my diet. I didn’t die.
5. Binging TV Will Actually Help You Get Over Your Ex. Every breakup requires an escape. For me, it’s always been a good TV show. Depending on how long the relationship lasted or how deep you got into it, you will need to pick a TV show that can heal those hurts. For me, it’s Sex and the City, Parks and Rec and Scandal. Always gets me through.
6. Happiness is a Practice. Make choices every day to be happy. Before you know it, it will add up like a savings account of joy. (With interest.)
7. Speaking Your Mind Comes with a Cost. You Should ALWAYS Pay It. When my mentor did the impossibly brave thing of coming out publicly as a whistleblower in a sex scandal, it blew my mind. Her public pain was on headlines across the country. But it caused change. It opened a conversation. She didn’t deserve it. But she did the right thing when she had to. For that, I admire the hell out of her.
8. Adventure is Never a Bad Idea. Planning my 5-week trip to Italy was easy. Actually getting on the plane to spend that many days alone in a foreign country was totally insane. I regret none of it.
9. When Things Don’t Go as Planned, Say Fuck the Plan. Nothing went as planned this year. It went better.
10. Dreams Aren’t Handed Out. They are Crafted, Created and Carefully Tended To. Four years ago, I started dreaming about starting my own business. Today, when I go to my office every day, I feel so proud that it actually happened. However, there were so many times where I’ve wanted to quit. Thank goodness I didn’t. Those moments were key. By pushing through the hard times, I made my dream even better.
“Tell me thy company, and I’ll tell thee what thou art.” – Miguel de Cervantes
It’s a cold December evening and I’m sitting around this gorgeous, vintage weathered farm table with five of the most beautiful women I know. Snow is gently falling outside. The tiny restaurant’s kitchen’s fire warms up the entire room. I’m a little buzzed from my pre-dinner cocktail. And I am happy. Stupidly. Blissfully. Electrically. I am with my women.
As I sit there, I think: Seven months ago, four of them weren’t in my life. One of them was still in an unhappy marriage and living in California. I’ve just ordered a perfect bottle of Malbec so we can all toast. And what are we toasting to? Our breakups. Our terrible, painful, heart-wrenching breakups. Because somehow, they brought us together. Somehow, we all managed to make March through June of this year our “end long-term loves” period. The following July through December has been the “falling in love with new women” period.
My high school days were entirely devoid of female friendships. It’s a fact that I was always tremendously defensive of, but as I’ve gotten older, I’ve come to appreciate the rarity of that connection. It wasn’t that there weren’t women around. It was that they weren’t “my” women. The people who saw me. And whom I saw on a soul level. When I went to college, I met the loves of my life. I remember having few boyfriends because I spent so much time trying to plan adventures with Katie and Mollie and Nyssa. They were my original squad. My original sisters. My original soul mates.
As I’ve gotten older and life has taken me from one state to another, I have borne witness to the chapters of these women’s lives. Through marriages. Children. Job changes. Masters Degrees. Terrible breakups. And affairs. Yet our 20s are a funny thing, because they are often the time of our first major distractions. Those first psuedo-marriages with live-in partners. And all the compromises we humans make to make those situations work. Specifically, the compromises women make to make those situations work.
And I don’t resent it. It’s part of humanness. Part of growing up. Part of being. I know that. But I see things like this talk between Lily and Jane and I think: how many times over the decades did they get distracted, only to find the love they most needed in the partnership they have with each other? I would guess it’s in the double, if not triple digits.
So I’m back at that table. Malbec in hand. Toasting to these women. I love, love, love giving a good toast. I love telling people I love them when I do, because it’s a gift so rare. I love sharing words. And tears. And laughter. They are my new set of soul mates. My 30s soul mates. My next chapter soul mates. And even though you never know what is going to last or for how long, it feels like the most perfect little pocket of time. One that I’ll revisit when the first in the group gets married or remarried. One that I’ll remember when that restaurant passes by my rear view mirror. One that I’ll hold onto with precious care and recall in drunken moments of nostalgia.
The women in my life saved me this year. But these women, specifically, saved me. For whatever the future may hold, it is the women in our lives whom we can come back to and be our true selves. A gift so rare, so precious, that we had to give it a proper title. We had to label it with the soul.
To my sisters and soul mates, you are a blessing. Cheers to you.
Yesterday morning I woke up to an email from a former boss, my most important mentor and dear friend letting me know that her name was about to be released as a woman involved in a sexual harassment scandal that had been brewing at my alma mater. She had decided to reveal herself, along with another victim, after the media had become unrelenting in figuring out her identity.
And my heart just ached about it all day yesterday.
I ached because whistleblowers become re-victimized by a culture that doesn’t believe women when they say something is wrong.
I ached because public figures, especially in sports, often don’t face the same level of scrutiny as their victims.
I ached because I knew coming forward was an impossible decision.
I ached because this woman’s career is brilliant and full of incredible accomplishments and now Google searches will associate her name with this awful story for a long, long time.
And I ached because I love her. And she didn’t deserve any of this.
However, my heart also swelled with pride.
I am proud because she did the right thing. She spoke up. She stood in her truth.
I am proud because she did not hide.
I am proud because doing the brave thing isn’t always fair. It subjects you to repeated reopenings of the wounds. But she did it anyway.
I am proud because she is setting an example for her daughters, the women that work for her (past and present) and women everywhere: silence is not the answer.
And I am proud because she is helping my alma mater do the right thing and take steps to protect victims of harassment.
When I talked about my experience last year reporting sexual harassment at a startup, I truly believed I did the right thing. But I didn’t face even 1/1,000th of what my friend is going through right now. And it’s a lesson to me that I will carry for a long while.
The larger the institution, the more challenging it is to take it on. The more powerful the person, the more bravery it will demand.
This woman has been my hero for years. I have always known she was a strong woman. I have always known that she was a badass. But no one wants to see their heroes go through this. It’s a helpful reminder: the only way this stops… the only way we get to a culture where people don’t have to pull these amazing fetes of bravery at their workplace… is if more people stand up and tell the truth. No matter how difficult. No matter how powerful the opposition. Standing in your truth is the only way forward.
