After decades working in education leadership and as one of the co-founders of The Sphere , I’ve spent years thinking about what holds us back—as entrepreneurs, as leaders, and as women and nonbinary folks navigating systems that weren’t built for us. One of the most pervasive and quiet forces I’ve come across, both in myself and in others, is internalized misogyny.

Internalized misogyny refers to the involuntary belief by girls and women that the stereotypes and myths about women that are perpetuated by the media, culture, and society are true. They’ve seeped into our subconscious and our inner dialogue. It manifests in our self-doubt, the judgments we (intentionally or unintentionally) place on other women, and in our acceptance of unequal treatment as the norm. It’s subtle, pervasive, and often unconscious.

I see it in the small things—when someone instinctively gives credit to a male voice in the room over their own (we’ve all been there), when we talk over or interrupt each other, when we say “sorry” just for having an opinion or before we even speak. I’ve seen it in meetings, in mentoring sessions, in networking events—and I’ve seen it in myself. But the moment it really landed for me was while watching my five-year-old daughter navigate the world. The way she sometimes hesitates to speak up, seeks permission to shine, or doubts herself even when she’s right. It broke my heart, and it reminded me: we have to do better.

Let’s get better at recognizing it, for it often doesn’t look like what we expect. It looks like apologizing before we speak. It looks like questioning our own authority, shrinking our ideas, or hesitating to take up space. It looks like undervaluing our own businesses while instinctively cheering for someone else’s. It looks like imposter syndrome disguised as humility.

At The Sphere, we talk a lot about inclusive leadership. But that starts internally. We can’t build a radically supportive and inclusive business community if we’re silently holding ourselves back. Internalized misogyny whispers that we’re too much, too loud, too ambitious. And it tells us to be grateful for whatever we get—even when we deserve more.

This is your reminder (and mine) that your voice matters. Your business matters. You are allowed to lead boldly, to say no, to claim space without shrinking. You are allowed to be loud.

At The Sphere, we are unlearning together. If this resonates with you, you are not alone—you are part of a community rewriting the script.