Conversations about women supporting women are common, yet the dynamics between women are often more layered than they appear on the surface. Many of these dynamics reveal themselves quietly, in small interactions that seem insignificant in the moment but begin to form a recognizable pattern over time. This article is the first of in the Women Rising Together Series, a collection of reflections that will explore those patterns, written in the hope that greater awareness might move us closer to celebrating one another rather than competing quietly with each other.
The Invisible Balance Between Girls
I’ve spent years trying to articulate something I noticed and experienced long before I had the vocabulary and understanding to explain it. There was a fragility in how girls connected with each other, as though our closeness depended on an invisible balance that had to be maintained. A balance of sameness, of equal attention of no one rising too far ahead of the others. The bonds were real but they often felt conditional, and it became evident the moment one of us stood out. The air would shift automatically, as if becoming visible had disrupted something that had quietly been holding us together.
It was as if there were invisible rules governing how we were meant to behave and how brightly we were allowed to shine. When someone unknowingly crossed those lines by standing out, succeeding, or simply drawing attention, the quiet tension would subtly rearrange loyalties and alter the social balance without anyone naming what just happened.
The rearrangement of loyalties could look like a friend who normally sat beside you choosing a different seat the next day. Or a group chat that continued, but without acknowledging your news. Or someone changing the subject quickly after you shared something you’re proud of. Sometimes it showed up in smaller ways such as receiving fewer invitations, shorter replies, a compliment that felt forced rather than warm.
In these moments of subtle imbalance, celebration isn’t completely absent but it certainly feels scarce. There might be a polite “that’s great”, or a brief smile but calculated where enthusiasm stopped just short of genuine excitement, because too much praise might upset the balance further.
I felt it as early as grade school in something as small as answering a teacher’s question correctly and turning, instinctively, to a friend to share the moment of happiness. I was greeted with a sense of distance and annoyance where I expected shared happiness. The atmosphere definitely shifted and it was in such subtle moments that I began to understand how my visibility could quietly change the dynamic between girlfriends, and how quickly connection could become conditional when recognition entered the room.
Why We Don’t Outgrow It
You might think that girls eventually outgrow these behaviours and the subtle tensions of adolescence soften with maturity and fade with experience. Yet these dynamics that begin in classroom and little-girl social groups often follow us into adulthood, further evolving rather than disappearing.
As adult women, we rarely express discomfort openly. We choose to instead form our impressions in private while quietly managing our reactions within ourselves. When we see announcements of achievements on social media, we often scroll past them while absorbing the news silently even when nothing outwardly prevents us from celebrating alongside the person who shared it.
In some instances, the reaction goes deeper than silence and stays with us long after we saw the announcement. There may be tears behind closed doors or the quiet ache of feeling less accomplished than someone we care about, and alongside that ache another thought can begin to surface – why her and not me?
The feeling is rarely spoken out loud. Instead, it settles inside us and begins to shape the questions we ask ourselves about our pace, our choices, and whether we are moving forward quickly enough.
The Loaded Pause
Mel Robbins shares a story in her book, The Let Them Theory about a woman who worked as an interior designer and felt quite unsettled when a neighbour in the same industry suddenly gained online visibility and praise. Nothing had been taken away from her and her business was still thriving and her clients were still there. Yet something inside her shifted and she began wondering whether her clients might eventually leave, questioning why she hadn’t taken similar steps to promote herself, and quietly measuring her own pace against the other woman’s growing momentum.
Nothing tangible had changed in her life, her work hadn’t diminished, and her reputation had not been damaged yet the visibility of someone she knew, doing similar work and gaining attention, stirred something difficult for her to ignore.
Seeing that this behaviour is noticeably common, I was determined to understand what happens to a woman in these moments because I had seen it play out too many times in others, and if I am honest, in myself. Through reflection and research, I began to recognize a pattern.
When a woman sees another woman step into visibility, there is often a brief pause before she responds. The moment is small and so subtle, but it happens often enough that I eventually gave it a name.
I call it the Loaded Pause.
What unfolds in this pause depends on something less visible than the achievement itself: her confidence. In that brief moment, the mind begins to process what another woman’s success means in relation to her own path. If her internal ground feels steady, the comparison passes through her easily and celebration follows without resistance. Another woman’s progress registers simply as progress.
But when confidence is less secure, the pause becomes heavier. Comparison lingers longer than it should, and the mind begins to turn inward, measuring timelines, choices, and momentum. In those moments, the other woman’s progress registers as a comparison, reflecting back questions about where she stands and whether she is falling behind. This is where insecurity begins to surface, often in the form of hesitation, quiet (or louder frustration in some circumstances), or the inability to fully celebrate another woman’s success.
Where Insecurity Really Comes From
For many women, insecurity is shaped by more than simple comparison; it is also influenced by the environment we grew up observing and the patterns we repeatedly saw around us. Throughout much of our lives, stories of female success have often been introduced with a familiar phrase: “the first woman to…”. The first woman to lead the company, the first woman to run the department, the first woman to break into the field. Each of these moments was presented as historic, and the language itself quietly reinforced the idea that a woman arriving in those spaces was something rare.
At the same time, men had already occupied those roles for generations, their presence so familiar that it rarely required special acknowledgement or explanation. Their success was treated as part of the natural order of things, while women’s success carried the tone of breakthrough.
Sociologist Rosabeth Moss Kanter described this phenomenon as tokenism, where members of an underrepresented group become highly visible simply because there are so few of them. When only a handful of women occupy positions of leadership or influence, their presence is treated as exceptional rather than expected. And their success becomes symbolic rather than a norm.
Hearing achievement framed this way year after year quietly shapes how advancement is understood. Over time, it becomes easy to internalize the idea that women enter these spaces individually, one breakthrough at a time rather than rising together.
The Real Tragedy
Insecurity, jealousy, and competition are not surprising reactions. They are very natural reactions shaped by environments where opportunities for women have often appeared limited. The real tragedy begins when we start believing that limitation is actually true. When success has long been presented as rare, another woman’s rise can trigger the fear that there may not be enough space left for her. It is from this belief that the negative feelings begin to surface, making her progress feel less like proof of what is possible and more like a sign that someone else has taken the place we hoped to reach.
And until we confront that belief directly, until we untangle insecurity from jealousy and jealousy from reflexive competition, the pause will continue to resolve in favour of self-protection rather than solidarity. Not because women lack generosity, but because many of us were quietly taught that advancement demanded isolation.
Turning the Pause into Perspective
So, here is what I suggest. The next time you see a woman’s success story broadcasted on social media, pause. The pause doesn’t need to disappear as reflection is not the enemy. It reveals what moves us and exposes what we quietly want and points towards desires we may not have fully admitted.
We can let the comparison shrink us and interpret her success as we are behind in our stories of success, or we can let it instruct us. Instead of asking ‘Why is she there and I’m not?” we can ask, “What steps did she take that I could learn from?”
Another woman’s success does not have to be a verdict on our own timeline. It can be evidence and proof that progress is attainable. The pause can turn into insight instead of insecurity and open the possibility where competition once lived.
And perhaps the real work is not eliminating the pause but learning to stay inside it long enough to shift our perspective, and see another woman’s success as my possibility over a scarcity.
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