I’m surrounded by successful, brilliant women. The kind you want on your team. Women who lead businesses, write bestselling books, raise children, chair boards, launch companies, and subtly change the world one presentation at a time.
But almost every single one of them downplays their ambition and success. And lately, I’ve noticed myself doing it too.
We brush off compliments and say things like “I’ve been really lucky.” We don’t dare to share our big dreams until they’re signed, sealed, and un-undoable. And even then, we gloss over it so as not to take up too much attention. We downplay our successes to make ourselves smaller, perhaps to be more ‘likeable’.
The strangest thing about this, is that it’s happening in a cultural moment that loudly celebrates female empowerment. Over the past two decades, we’ve been told, via book covers, T-shirts slogans, fragrance ads and sports campaigns, that we’re strong, empowered, fearless, and unstoppable. We’re told to claim our space, to use our voice, and go for it!
And so we do. We publicly celebrate women’s achievements. We clap for the female founder who raises millions, or for the woman who wins a Grammy, or an Olympic gold medal. We want the headline win for women. For the ones we admire from afar. But when it’s closer to home, if it’s our own wins or those of our peers, things get complicated.
There’s a tension that exists between our belief in female empowerment and the lived experience of being an ambitious woman. Because even in 2025, there’s still something taboo about a woman who wants more; more money, more power, more freedom, more joy. There’s still a hesitation and a discomfort with saying out loud: “I want to win.” Or “I’m really good at what I do.”
Why do we tell our daughters to reach for the stars, when we’re afraid to admit we still have stars of our own?
The fear of being “too much”
At the root of this, I think, is an old and very persistent fear of being too much. Too loud, too confident, too self-promotional. We’ve been taught, often subtly, sometimes explicitly, that ambition in women should be carefully measured. Assertive, but not aggressive. Accomplished, but humble. Impressive, but likeable.
This double bind means we’re constantly trying to find the right tone, the right balance, the right way to package our ambition so it doesn’t make anyone else uncomfortable. We want to succeed, but not appear too proud of it. We want to shine, but not so brightly that someone might think we’re showing off.
It’s exhausting.
It’s been more than 20 years since I was at school, but I still remember the teacher who scolded me for being, as she put it, “overly confident.” She warned me it would be my downfall. Her words stayed with me, maybe they still do. A quiet voice reminding me to dim my light.
Why do strangers cheer while friends stay silent?
One of the most confronting parts of all this is how it plays out socially. We’ve all felt that weird sting when you share something you're proud of online and it gets shared and liked by hundreds of strangers, but isn’t even acknowledged by your closest friends. No “Well done.” No “Good for you.” Just silence.
Sometimes that silence is innocent. People are busy, distracted, doing their own thing. But sometimes it’s not. Sometimes it’s discomfort, disapproval or their own unresolved stuff around ambition and success. Sometimes it’s a reflection of the unspoken rule: we don’t talk too loudly about our own success.
And let’s be honest, sometimes it’s envy. In an ideal world, we’d all cheer for each other’s growth. But in reality, there will always be people who see you as competition, or who quietly believe your success is undeserved. Not because you’ve done anything wrong, but because it’s human nature. Comparison is wired into us.
Maybe that’s why it’s easier to celebrate the wins of people we don’t know. The distance makes us more comfortable. Their success doesn’t feel personal.
So we’ll see our friends double-tap and cheer for the founder they’ve never met, but when it’s someone in their circle, someone real? They’re much less enthusiastic.
What would it look like to stop downplaying?
How would it feel to say “Yes, I worked hard for this.” Or: “This is something I’m really proud of.” Or even just: “Here’s what I’m aiming for next… and it’s BIG!”
Because ambition is not a dirty word. It’s not selfish, it’s not shallow, and it’s not something to hide. Ambition is personal, it can mean starting a business or traveling the world. It can mean working towards financial freedom or working fewer hours. It can mean running a marathon or running a community project. Whatever form it takes, you’re allowed to be proud of it.
So here’s my invitation to you (and to myself)... let’s start talking about those big goals and stop taming our ambition.
Let’s stop hiding our wins behind modesty and self deprecation. Let’s celebrate personal success and stop asking for permission to feel good about it.
Let’s cheer louder for our friends and peers, not just for idols and celebrities. Let’s congratulate them publicly and encourage each other to strive and to win.
When we stop downplaying our ambition, we give other women permission to do the same. And that’s where the real power lies!
To the woman who wants more, aims higher, and says so unapologetically, you’re showing us all what’s possible!
Thanks for reading!
Adrienne