Dear Future Leaders,
I was the perfect "nice" girl.
Quiet, agreeable, high-achieving. The daughter who never caused trouble, never spoke out of line, never challenged authority.
My parents were proud. My teachers loved me. My friends found me easy to be around.
Then I entered the corporate world and got blamed for someone else's coding mistake.
Suddenly, being "nice" wasn't protecting me anymore. It was making me a target.
The "Nice" Girl Trap
Growing up in a traditional family, I learned that silence and compliance were virtues. We didn't attend sporting events or cultural festivals. We didn't learn to swim or join clubs. Our social world was carefully contained.
My mother, who never worked outside the home, saw education as my path to freedom. She encouraged my academic success but couldn't prepare me for the political realities of professional life.
Armed with my degree and confidence in my abilities, I thought excellence would speak for itself.
It doesn't.
When that major project module failed and I was blamed for code I hadn't written, I found myself speechless. Confronting people, even when they were wrong, wasn't in my nature.
In my "nice" world, no one had ever lied about me or deliberately tried to harm me. If I noticed conflict, I simply walked away.
But in the corporate world, these people were my team. Walking away wasn't an option, and I couldn't afford to lose my job and independence.
Where I Drew the Line
I realized that being "nice" was actually a limitation, not a strength.
Over the next two years, I took deliberate steps to become more vocal. Not aggressive, not difficult, but real about my contributions and boundaries.
The transformation showed up in specific moments:
When management wanted to assign the unpopular 7-9 am shift by rotation, I said no. "It's always been voluntary. I'm not crossing my boundaries to absorb someone else's burden."
When my male teammates complained I left "on time" while they stayed late, I told my manager: "They stay for free dinner and foosball. I work smart, I deliver. Clocking out on time doesn't mean I do less."
When I was blamed for code I hadn't written, I stayed until 11 pm digging through data to find the truth, then documented exactly what went wrong and how to prevent it.
When I was assigned a high-responsibility project that didn't match my pay, I navigated out of it without upsetting anyone.
I never gave up my morning runs. I never let my performance slip. I didn't burn bridges. I got promoted faster than most of my male peers.
People stopped seeing me as just another female developer. They saw me as serious competition.
Today, many of those same colleagues still call me for advice. We're still friends.
Your Professional Awakening
Maybe you weren't raised to be "nice" like I was, but you probably learned similar lessons about accommodation and conflict avoidance.
Be agreeable. Don't rock the boat. Work harder to prove yourself. Keep everyone happy.
If you're the person everyone turns to when they need someone reliable, you know what I'm talking about. The one who stays late to fix other people's problems. The one who never complains about extra work.
The problem isn't that accommodation is bad. The problem is when it becomes your default response to every professional challenge.
Breaking the Pattern
Professional doesn't mean absorbing everyone else's problems. It means protecting your energy for work that actually matters.
Professional doesn't mean saying yes to everything. It means saying yes to the right things.
Professional doesn't mean avoiding conflict. It means addressing issues directly and respectfully.
You'll be asked to take on extra work because "you're so reliable." You'll be expected to smooth over other people's mistakes because "you're so understanding." You'll be overlooked for opportunities because "you never speak up anyway."
The transition from endlessly accommodating to being respected isn't about becoming aggressive. It's about becoming authentic about your value, your boundaries, and what you will and won't accept.
This might disappoint people who benefited from your endless accommodations. Let them be disappointed.
Begin with small boundaries and build upon them. Protect your peak energy hours for your most important work. Stop covering for colleagues who consistently drop the ball. Speak up when you're blamed for things you didn't do.
You might expect pushback when you start setting boundaries. Instead, you'll likely find respect.
People don't value what they can take for granted. When you stop being endlessly available, your time becomes more valuable. When you stop absorbing everyone's problems, your problem-solving skills become more appreciated.
Want to get started right away? For a limited time, I'll help you identify the specific accommodation patterns that might be limiting your career and give you scripts for setting professional boundaries.
Simply reply with the word "BOUNDARIES" to get started.
Remember: The world needs your skills and judgment, not your endless accommodations.
Until next time,
Boundaries