I went to see the new Devil Wears Prada movie tonight with a group of girlfriends, and honestly? Somewhere between the designer clothes, power plays, perfectly timed insults, and emotionally unavailable bosses with incredible handbags, I realized something deeply uncomfortable. The movie may technically be fiction, but the dynamic sure as hell isn’t. Every woman in that theater laughed at certain scenes not because they were exaggerated, but because they were recognizable. We all know a woman like that. Most of us have worked for one. Some of us have survived entire seasons of our lives trying to recover from one.
And before somebody immediately decides this is going to turn into a “women are the problem” rant, relax your chesticles for a second and stay with me. This is not about bashing women. Quite the opposite actually. It’s about finally being honest enough to admit that women have the potential to become each other’s greatest advocates or each other’s greatest source of damage, and pretending otherwise isn’t helping any of us. We talk constantly about women supporting women, and I absolutely believe in that message. Female empowerment isn’t a brunch theme, Karen. It’s how you treat women when there’s only one promotion available. I’ve built much of my platform around that idea. But if we are ever going to make meaningful progress when it comes to gender equality, leadership, and changing workplace culture, then we also have to be willing to tell the truth about the ways women sometimes participate in the dysfunction too.
Because some of the deepest wounds women carry professionally were not inflicted by men. They were inflicted by other women. Women who smiled in meetings and shredded people in private afterward. Women who loudly championed “female empowerment” on LinkedIn while quietly undermining another woman behind the scenes. Women who viewed competent, confident women not as allies, but as threats to neutralize before they became too visible, too successful, too influential, or too difficult to control. The problem is that this behavior rarely looks dramatic enough to call out publicly. Too many women are out here preaching collaboration publicly while auditioning for The Hunger Games privately. It’s subtle. Strategic. Polished. It hides behind professionalism. It shows up in withheld opportunities, exclusion from conversations, lack of acknowledgment, fake mentorship, performative support, and carefully packaged micro-aggressions delivered with a smile and a “just trying to help.”
And honestly, I think part of the reason this dynamic persists is because women have been conditioned for generations to believe there is only room for one of us at the table. One woman leader. One respected female executive. One woman allowed to take up space without being labeled “too much.” One woman whose voice is considered valuable before everyone else suddenly becomes “intimidating.” Instead of questioning why the table was built that way in the first place, many women learned to compete for proximity to power rather than working together to build bigger tables. We were taught to survive within broken systems instead of challenging the systems themselves. And survival mode makes people do ugly things sometimes.
I’ve seen it firsthand throughout my career. I’ve sat in rooms where male executives absolutely underestimated women, interrupted women, dismissed women, and rewarded behavior in men they criticized in women. That part is real, and I will never pretend otherwise. But I’ve also seen women tear each other apart trying to become “the exception.” The exception who gets approval. The exception who gets promoted. The exception who gets chosen. The exception who gets protected. Somewhere along the way, too many women stopped seeing collaboration as power and started seeing other capable women as competition. And for the record? Being the only woman at the table isn’t the flex some of y’all think it is if you pulled the ladder up behind you to get there. And the irony is almost painful when you think about it. We cannot collectively demand equality from men while refusing to fully extend it to one another ourselves.
How do we expect men to treat women as equals if women themselves are still operating from scarcity with each other? How do we expect workplaces to evolve if women continue participating in the same toxic power dynamics that hurt us? How do we raise daughters to believe in community, support, and empowerment while modeling insecurity, comparison, jealousy, and competition every chance we get? At some point, we have to stop pretending this conversation is anti-woman simply because it makes us uncomfortable. Accountability and honesty are not betrayal. In fact, avoiding the conversation entirely is probably the bigger betrayal.
What’s especially frustrating is that women are capable of extraordinary things when we truly support one another. I know this because I have experienced it too. I have had women advocate for me in rooms I wasn’t in. I have had women encourage me when I was questioning myself. I have had women support my business, amplify my voice, recommend me for opportunities, and remind me of who I was when toxic workplaces were doing their best to convince me otherwise. Those women changed my life. They are the reason I still believe deeply in the power of women supporting women. But the existence of amazing women does not erase the reality that harmful dynamics between women still exist, especially in leadership spaces, corporate environments, and industries where women have had to fight for limited seats at the table.
And maybe that’s the part nobody wants to say out loud. Some women become so traumatized by what they endured climbing the ladder that instead of dismantling the toxicity once they reach the top, they recreate it. They confuse hardness with strength. Some women don’t break glass ceilings. They become the damn ceiling. They confuse intimidation with leadership. They confuse exclusivity with power. They wear “I had it hard too” like some twisted badge of honor as if suffering is a prerequisite future generations of women should also have to survive in order to be worthy. Instead of becoming safe places for other women to land, they become another obstacle course to navigate.
But I don’t believe that’s who we have to be. I believe women can be powerful without being cruel. If your power depends on another woman shrinking, that’s not leadership, sister. That’s insecurity in a blazer. I believe women can be ambitious without sabotaging one another. I believe women can lead without humiliating people. I believe another woman’s beauty, intelligence, success, confidence, healing, voice, platform, relationship, business, body, or brilliance does not diminish our own. I believe there is room for more than one woman to succeed loudly at the same damn time. And frankly, if we ever want real change regarding gender equality, leadership representation, workplace culture, or societal expectations placed on women, then that change has to include the way we treat each other too.
Because the truth is, the future does not magically become better simply because more women enter the room. It becomes better when women stop operating from fear and scarcity once they get there. It becomes better when we stop seeing each other as competition for survival and start seeing each other as collaborators in changing the damn system entirely.
And maybe that’s the real conversation Devil Wears Prada accidentally keeps forcing us to have all these years later. Not whether Miranda was powerful. But whether power without compassion is actually success at all.
And maybe that’s the real work in front of us right now. Not just becoming successful women. Becoming healed women. Women secure enough to clap for another woman without wondering what it takes away from them. Women brave enough to stop performing empowerment publicly while practicing competition privately. Women willing to build bigger tables instead of fighting over seats at broken ones.
Because leadership without authenticity is just performance in expensive shoes.
And if you’re a woman navigating toxic leadership dynamics, burnout, self-doubt, workplace politics, or the exhausting pressure of trying to succeed without losing yourself in the process, that is exactly why I created my Unfiltered Leader executive coaching program.
An eight-week experience for women ready to blow up the bullshit, reclaim their power, and lead like the threat they always knew they were.
You can also book an Allie-vention Call with me to see if we’re a good fit to work together and map out the best path forward for your next chapter.
Because the goal isn’t just surviving the room anymore, sister. It’s changing the damn dynamic entirely!
