Defying Gravity: On Leadership, Speaking Up, and What Happens When You Challenge the System
“Something has changed within me, Something is not the same. I’m through with playing by the rules of someone else’s game.” — Wicked
This past week, I was reminded how uncomfortable truth-telling can be - especially when it comes from a woman speaking candidly about gender dynamics in leadership.
I was on a call with a handful of (non-work related) veterinary professionals that I have been connecting with for a handful of months — when I pushed back on a statement that was made by a male veterinarian on the call regarding leadership roles in veterinary medicine. My pushback was based on both data and lived experience: that while women make up nearly 87% of the veterinary profession, we are still underrepresented in executive leadership roles. I spoke about the challenges of being seen and heard in spaces still overwhelmingly led by men, especially in corporate veterinary medicine (my experience).
And then came the backlash.
Both on the call itself and afterward, privately. Direct messages. Multiple.
Warnings.
I was told that if I publicly said something like “men are oppressing women in vet med,” I am a liability. That I could put the company that I work for at risk. That I could be removed from the very platform I was contributing to. That if I shared anything "divisive", I should expect it to be reported to the organization that I work for. My livelihood was threatened. I was accused of demonizing an entire gender.
I was shocked.
Not because I’m unfamiliar with pushback — any woman in leadership likely knows that well — but because this wasn’t pushback. This was control. It was an attempt to silence under the guise of protecting reputation. It was an effort to intimidate, to censor, to reframe my experience as a liability.
What was the intent of what I actually said? That we should talk about what it’s like for women in vet med. That we should name the disconnect between who makes up the field and who holds power within it. That this isn’t about blaming individuals — it’s about shifting systems.
I clarified repeatedly that I was not attacking men. That I wasn’t making sweeping generalizations. I apologized for any phrasing that may have been misinterpreted. I stayed in the conversation longer than I probably should have. And then I drew a boundary.
And still, I was told that my voice, my truth, was dangerous.
🎵 The Wicked Reminder
A few days later, I was driving when Defying Gravity from Wicked came on. If you know the song, you know the feeling... it’s electric. Defiant. Honest.
Elphaba sings about realizing the system she trusted was never built for her. About choosing to lead with integrity, even if it means flying solo. And about refusing to shrink to make others comfortable.
And I thought... yes! That’s RIGHT!
Because I’ve tried playing by the rules. I’ve tried being agreeable. I’ve tried softening the truth to protect feelings. And still, when I spoke up, I was warned, not welcomed.
“I’m through accepting limits ‘cause someone says they’re so.”
Speaking the truth isn’t reckless. Staying silent when we know better is.
⚖️ What I Did Next
I contacted my company’s HR team.
And I was supported.
I was reminded that I have the right to share my lived experience. That naming inequity is not inappropriate. That protected speech matters. That the organization that I work for will not be weaponized against me for telling the truth.
That support changed everything.
Because too often, women are left to navigate these conversations alone, wondering if we imagined it, questioning whether we should’ve just stayed quiet. That clarity gave me back my footing.
💡 What This Is (and Isn’t)
This isn’t about one person or one conflict. This is about a pattern.
A pattern where people say they want progress, but only if it’s polite, only if it's comfortable (for them). Where they want diversity, but only if it’s quiet (and comfortable for them). Where they want leadership, but only if it doesn’t rock the boat (and comfortable for them).
But we weren’t invited into these spaces to smile and nod. We are here to lead. And real leadership does not avoid discomfort. Real leadership moves through it. If you know me as a leader you know that I lean into discomfort.
So to be clear:
Telling your truth is NOT unprofessional.
Naming systems of inequity is NOT attacking individuals.
Being called into a tough conversation does NOT mean you’re being attacked, it means you ARE being invited to grow.
👏 What I Know for Sure
Women in vet med are overdue to be heard, not just present.
Allyship isn’t measured in how well you avoid discomfort, it’s measured in how you stay in it.
You don’t get to ask for honest conversations and then punish people for being honest.
To the women who’ve been told “you’re too much,” To the leaders who’ve been asked to “tone it down,” To the truth-tellers who’ve been warned that their experience is “bad for business”
👏You👏are👏not👏the👏problem👏
Keep showing up. Keep speaking up. And if they tell you to dim your light?
“Well, if that's love, it comes at much too high a cost.”
✨ My Commitment
I will continue to speak from a place of integrity, even when it’s uncomfortable. I will share the stage. I will share the mic. I will not shrink. Because I didn’t get this far to let fear keep me grounded.
“And if I'm flying solo, at least I'm flying free. To those who'd ground me, take a message back from me.”