“Why Don’t You Like Me?”
Up to now, I’ve moved through the design-tech-startup world relatively unscathed, ovarily speaking. On the rare occasion that I’ve felt uncomfortable, I’ve been in an environment that I can openly and immediately say so. Any time I’ve brought up something that I think does my gender a disservice, it’s been met with gratitude. Everyone understands that equality is a work in progress, I know they’re doing their best, and they know I’m just providing feedback.
Increasingly, however, I am met with the same question:
“Why don’t you like me?”
“Oh that’s just my face” I always say. It’s not. “Oh no I’ve just got a chill about me” I always say. I don’t. “It’s not you it’s me” It’s you. “It’s been a hard week” It hasn’t. “I’m just stressed out” I’m not.
It usually results in a very uncomfortable 10 minutes, followed by no change in my behaviour (except that if I liked you before, I probably don’t anymore). “Woah..that was..weird..” It never really showed up on my feminist radar, more like a nagging icky feeling that I pushed aside.
But it’s been nagging extra hard lately, so started wondering: What makes it so icky? Why do I feel like my expertise no longer holds the same weight regardless of my answer?
Is it because it feels like a school-yard note was just thrown on my desk and frankly I’m too old for this shit?
Is it the fact that this is almost certainly a question only posed to women?
Is it the fact that I am forced to take responsibility by belittling myself to comfort your bruised ego?
Obviously, yes. That’s exactly what it is.
What am I doing to invite this recurring reaction? I mean, maybe they’re right, I might just be a crummy person who doesn’t like anyone — but, like, I’m pretty sure I’m not, or at least not all the time, or at least not in public. Anyway, for the sake of argument, let’s entertain the idea that I’m not. Wait. No. What does it matter if I don’t like anybody, we’re working together and no where in my contract does it say that I have to be your best friend. For the sake of argument, let’s look at what I actually am doing instead.
I am ambitious. I am smart. I am confident. I like who I am and I’m good at what I do. I know I’ve earned my seat at the table, because my opinions have substance. I speak up when I have something to add, and I’m quiet when I have something to learn. I am to the point. I don’t believe in wasting time and disengage with anyone who is careless with mine. I don’t believe in hand holding when providing feedback: I’m not rude, I’m systematic. I choose my words carefully and I speak with authority. I do not have imposter’s syndrome.
And you want to know why I don’t like you?
Are you serious?
These traits are valuable, and I’ve worked hard to cultivate them. But when they’re found residing in the wrong gender, it’s about me. My ambition now abrasive. My intelligence condescending. My confidence unfeeling. No one is asking my male counterpart why he doesn’t like them. No one is asking him because no one takes his personality personally. No one is asking him because obviously he is way too busy to concern himself with such trivial matters. No one is asking him because he would laugh in your face if you asked him such a ridiculous question.
You are making our professional relationship personal without my permission. When you ask me something you wouldn’t ask anyone else, it changes my role in being there. It shifts the focus away from my abilities, on to who I am as a person. When you’re more concerned with my opinion of you than my opinion of the product, it makes me question why I’m there. It makes me question my own merit.
Why do I have to like you?
Why aren’t you asking me how we can work better together? Why aren’t you asking me what I think? Why aren’t you what I want to do? Isn’t that why I’m here? That is why I’m here, right?
It’s subtle dismissive language that makes me lose my footing, before we’ve even started. It does a disservice not only to me, but to the anything we’re working on. I can’t do my job when you underestimate me. Instead I spend my time and energy proving that I should be there in the first place (you probably aren’t doing the best job either, if you’re spending all your time wondering if I like you).
So moving forward, I’m not making excuses for who I am and how I do my job. I am not here to soothe any egos, and will not disparage myself to do so. I do not tolerate anyone being dismissive of my expertise, and will not endure any of the subtle language used to do so. By taking the time to consider exactly what it was that made me uncomfortable, I find myself armed with the words I was missing before. Prepared to recognize and disarm any gender fuelled comments that come my way.
What I’m trying to say, is that if it feels icky, it probably is. Take the time to recognize it. Take the time to find the source of what is making you uncomfortable instead of pushing it aside. It’s easier to ignore it in the short term, but it’s a lost opportunity in the long term. Understanding why something isn’t okay makes it easier to recognize in the future. It makes it easier to articulate why a line was crossed, and ultimately helps everyone move closer to equality through open and honest communication.
(and to answer your question: Why don’t I like you? Because I don’t like people who underestimate me.)
