A few days ago, I stood in front of a crowd at The Climb, an event dedicated to raising awareness around postpartum depression, maternal mental health, and supporting women through some of the hardest seasons of their lives. As I looked out at the moms, families, and supporters gathered there, I found myself thinking about something that has become a recurring theme in both my personal life and my work.
Women are struggling. Far more than most people realize. And perhaps what’s most heartbreaking is how many of us are struggling alone. Not because help isn’t available. Not because nobody cares. But because somewhere along the way, we were taught that needing help is weakness. That asking for support means we’re failing. That strong women figure it out on their own.
During my talk, I shared a simple truth that seemed to resonate deeply with the audience:
Struggling doesn’t make you a bad mom. And suffering in silence doesn’t make you a strong one.
The grassy field first cheered and then got really quiet. You know the kind of quiet I’m talking about. The kind that happens when people hear something they desperately need to. The kind that comes when we receive the permission to believe what we already knew deep down inside, but someone said it outloud.
Because if we’re being honest, women have become experts at pretending we’re okay. We’re okay when we’re exhausted. We’re okay when we’re overwhelmed. We’re okay when we’re carrying the emotional weight of an entire household, a demanding career, aging parents, growing children, financial stress, relationship struggles, and our own mental health all at the same time.
We’re okay right up until we’re not. And then we wonder why anxiety, burnout, depression, loneliness, and emotional exhaustion are showing up in record numbers. One of the chapters in my book has a meme on its cover page that shows a woman completely submerged under swamp water with her two thumbs protruding from the surface and a caption that reads “It’s fine, I’m fine, everything is fine”. There’s no better visual for the idea that we’re literally drowning on the inside while claiming to be okay! Imagine my shock when the game on FB produced that!! I had clicked on one of those FaceBook posts where it claims to produce an image of you or your current state etc. This one said what would you look like if you were being honest about how you’re feeling? And there I was, drowning on a meme in real time! Accurate much??
May was Mental Health Awareness Month, and while social media was filled with reminders to check on your friends and prioritize self-care, I couldn’t help but think about something we don’t talk about nearly enough. The role women play in either supporting one another through those struggles—or making them worse.
Now before anyone gets defensive, let me be clear. I am not saying women don’t support women. I’ve experienced incredible women in my life who have loved me through divorce, career transitions, heartbreak, reinvention, and all the messy chapters in between. Women who answered the phone when I was struggling. Women who showed up. Women who sat with me in my darkest moments without trying to fix me. Those women are treasures. They’re my tribe!
But if we’re being really honest, we’ve all seen the other side too. We’ve all seen what happens when support becomes conditional. When women cheer for other women until those women become too successful. The old adage of I want you to be successful and to do great things, just not better than me. So when you become too visible. Too confident. Too influential. Too powerful. It becomes threatening to the fakes or on the other hand, boy do those coattail people latch on quick!
I’ve spent years talking about women supporting women because I genuinely believe it’s one of the most important conversations we can have. It’s become a foundation of the work I do now. Not because it sounds good on a stage or makes for a catchy social media post, but because I’ve lived both sides of it.
I’ve experienced women who reached back and pulled me forward. And I’ve experienced women who disappeared the moment they no longer needed what I had to offer. Women who said my name in rooms I wasn’t in yet and women who intentionally made sure I never got the chance. Women who were all in until they got to the top and it wasn’t convenient anymore.
Recently, I found myself reflecting on one particular experience. Someone came into my orbit during a season when things weren’t exactly going their way. They were trying to build something. Trying to gain traction. Trying to get their name out there. I invited them onto my podcast because I genuinely believed in what they were doing. They were excited. Grateful. Thrilled about the opportunity.
About that same time, someone approached me looking for a service I couldn’t provide. Without hesitation, I referred them to that same person. I was excited for them. I wanted to see them win. I wanted their business to grow. And it did. In fact, it took off. Exactly the way I hoped it would. But somewhere along the way, something shifted. Suddenly they didn’t have time. Suddenly the podcast wasn’t a fit. Suddenly the enthusiasm that existed when support was flowing in one direction disappeared when there was an opportunity to return it.
And if I’m being honest, it stung. Not because I was keeping score. Not because I was jealous. Not because I expected repayment. But because moments like that force you to confront an uncomfortable reality.
Some people love support. They just don’t love giving it. Some people love community. As long as they’re the ones benefiting from it. Some people love women supporting women right up until another woman’s success requires them to be generous with their own platform, influence, connections, or opportunities.
And that’s the part nobody wants to talk about. Because real support isn’t posting inspirational quotes. Real support isn’t liking someone’s social media post. Real support is continuing to cheer for someone when there’s nothing in it for you. Real support is opening doors even when you gain absolutely nothing by doing so. Real support is understanding that another woman’s success doesn’t take anything away from your own.
I think that’s why this work matters so much to me now. Whether I’m coaching women, speaking at events, recording podcast episodes, or preparing for the July launch of The Unfiltered Leader, the conversation almost always comes back to the same thing:
Who are you surrounding yourself with? Are they women who celebrate your growth? Or tolerate it? Are they women who support your voice? Or compete with it? Are they women who encourage you to ask for help? Or silently judge you for needing it?
Because the older I get, the more convinced I become that our success has less to do with our talent and more to do with the quality of the community we’re building around us.
We were never meant to do this alone. Not motherhood. Not leadership. Not healing. Hell, not life. And perhaps the strongest thing a woman can do is stop pretending she has to. Because struggling doesn’t make you weak. Asking for help doesn’t make you incapable. And supporting another woman doesn’t make your light shine any less brightly.
In fact, it might be the very thing that helps us all shine a little brighter.
If this resonated with you and you’re looking at taking that next step, book an Allie-Vention call. My Unfiltered Leader group coaching course is launching in July and it may be EXACTLY what you need to launch that next chapter!
