The advice I stopped giving women

Take a picture of my whiteboard. Grab the eraser. Start fresh.

For as long as I’ve been working, I’ve had a whiteboard in my workspace.

Early in my career, I was a software developer, and my whiteboard held the latest architecture diagrams of the systems rattling around in my head.

Later in my career, you’d see project plans and milestones, of all the projects I was juggling. Figuring out what was interconnected and what needed to get done next. Mapping it out helped me see a way through the sometimes tangled dependencies.

Lately, my whiteboard has held thoughts about my personal brand online, and making sense out of all the products and websites I’ve created as I’ve vibe-coded a few too many of my ideas with AI.

And this morning, I walked into my office, and erased it all.

This simple ritual of erasing everything, even the thoughts that had stubbornly dried and now need to be scrubbed away, has always helped me recenter and focus on what’s next.

My next focus?

Unapologetically helping other women succeed.

For most of my career (and even most of my childhood), I’ve been one of the only women in the room.

I went from climbing trees and playing baseball with my brothers and their friends, to being one of two women in a department of 300 software engineers, to raising money as a startup CEO.

After my company was acquired, I even found myself featured in a full-page trade magazine ad showcasing the fact that the company had a woman executive.

Being the outlier became my normal.

Early in my career, I changed how I dressed to fit in with the other software developers. I played video games with them, and later played poker with the sales guys. I never backed down from being the only woman when “the guys” got together.

I got very good at adapting to the room.

I didn’t think much about whether the room should adapt to me.

For most of my career, I thought that was what success required.

All of that changed earlier this year at an AI networking event at a bar.

Two female entrepreneurs walked in, saw me standing near the entrance, came over to me, and said they would have left if they didn’t see me there.

I started giving them the advice I’d followed my entire career: you can’t leave just because you’re one of the only women in the room.

Then, I stopped myself mid-sentence.

Why was I teaching them to get better at tolerating the situation?

That moment was when I decided that we could do better. I could do better.

I’d spent my career learning how to succeed where women were the outliers.

Maybe it was time to build a different room.

That evening became the seed of Full Moon Forum: the peer group for innovative women that I spent much of my own career without.

So, this morning, I’m starting with a blank whiteboard again.

Only this time, I’m not mapping out an architecture, a product, or a project plan.

I’m mapping out the kind of room I wish I’d had throughout my career.

If you’d like to be involved, I have 2 gatherings coming up during the next full moons.

August 27 - virtual - Sturgeon Moon

This moon carries the symbolism of sturgeon surviving for millions of years by navigating deep, changing environments, and this is the season they rise toward the surface. We’ll use the time to connect over what has been taking shape for us this year.

September 25 - in Philadelphia - Harvest Moon

The Harvest Moon gives us a natural moment to reflect: What have you been growing this year? What’s ready to be recognized, shared, or claimed?

The moon provides the theme. The women in the room provide the substance.

If you’re a woman founder, executive, or innovator who’s spent enough of her career adapting to the room, I’d love to invite you into this one.

You can find the details at Full Moon Forum. And if there’s a woman in your network who should be in this room, I’d appreciate you sharing it with her.