The day I stopped following the male idea of power

And I’d always come up blank. Every time. No enemies. And when I failed to produce an impressive enemy list, the reaction was always the same: How can you claim to be competent if you haven’t made powerful enemies? I came to understand this enemy thing was rooted in the male idea of power. That men tend to see winning and power like this: For me to win, you need to lose. I came to realize that this advice to be powerful enough to have enemies was basically an invitation to turn into an aggressive bully to advance my career. But here’s the catch. I was bullied as a kid. And it was awful. So, early on, I decided that I was never going to choose to be like the bullies who hurt me. And if that was not good for my career, so be it. I would find another way. I often wondered if I was limiting my career by being too nice. And worried if I was supposed to feel powerful? Am I supposed to act powerful even if I don’t feel powerful? Am I doing the job of a leader wrong because I don’t feel powerful? Even when I was in my biggest roles, where I had actual power at my fingertips — thousands of employees under my watch, millions of dollars of budget to manage, billions of dollars of revenue to keep growing — I never felt personally powerful. Mostly, I personally felt crushing responsibility. I felt insecure about the power thing for years. The VP Bully Then one day, what I needed to do about this idea of acting powerful like the men became very clear to me. I was at a client’s office on Long Island. Sitting in a small conference room were the VP of technology, who was a large, dominant type, and one of his direct reports, whom I’ll call Seth. The VP told me, “The reason we are having this problem is that Seth makes stupid mistakes. He’s not good at his job. No one listens to Seth. He screws everything up.” Seth looked small and mortified. I was cringing and heartbroken for him. I knew w