There’s a strange kind of battle that plays out quietly, one I’ve had to navigate more than I’d like to admit.
It’s the quiet push and pull between how I look and what I know.
I’ve always looked younger than I am. And I used to take it as a compliment. “You’ll appreciate it when you’re older,” people would say with a smile, like it’s this eternal blessing to be underestimated.
But the truth is, when you’re building a career, owning your ideas, leading teams, and carving out space in rooms that weren’t made for you. Looking young stops feeling like a compliment and starts feeling like a fight for legitimacy.
I’ll walk into a meeting, pitch and I can see it. The split-second pause."Is she the exec?"
I have softness in my tone, sharpness in my mind, and clarity in my vision, but too often, all of that gets clouded by the assumption that I’m too young to know what I’m doing.
And that’s the internal battle:
Wanting to be seen as competent without having to perform authority.
Wanting to lead without needing to harden myself just to be heard.
Somewhere along the way, we were sold this idea that authority has to come wrapped in sternness, rigidity, or a louder voice. That if you don’t project a kind of hardened confidence, you’ll be overlooked.
But here’s what I’ve been learning, slowly, stubbornly:
Authority doesn’t have to be loud. It just has to be real.
It’s in the way you stand by your work.
The way you speak with purpose, not performance.
The way you hold your boundaries, even when it’s easier to fold.
I can lead with warmth.
I can look like the youngest person in the room and still be the most prepared one there.
I can speak softly and still be powerful.
If you’ve ever been underestimated because of how young you look, remind yourself there’s nothing wrong with you. There’s something wrong with the systems that make us feel like we need to look a certain way to be taken seriously. That confuse experience with appearance. That equate age with value.
I remind myself that my voice is earned, not borrowed.
That I don’t need to overcompensate to belong.
That I can be taken seriously without performing someone else’s version of power.
Looking young is not a weakness, it’s just one more thing we have to learn to navigate with grace and grit.
