Have you ever stayed silent while burning on the inside to speak? Felt a fierce disagreement rise up, only to swallow it so as not to rock the boat? Raised your hand, then slowly lowered it again — oh no, it wasn’t important, the point has already been made (it hadn’t).
Have you ever considered that this isn’t a you problem — that it’s the result of a lifetime of subtle messaging about how you’re expected to behave?
Recent research by Ruling Our eXperiences (ROX), surveying 17,000 girls from fifth through twelfth grade for The Girls’ Index, reveals a deeply troubling trend: 67% of girls say they don’t share what they’re thinking or disagree with others because they want to be liked. Let that sink in for a moment. Two-thirds of girls are silencing themselves in order to be accepted.
Reading this made me reflect on my own experience. I can’t point to a single defining moment that made me question my voice — but I can recall countless times sitting around a table, emotions churning, knowing I had something to add, an opinion to share, a point worth making.
But I didn’t.
In primary school, I was happy to put my hand up. I was proud to know the answer and confident in my opinions. At secondary school, I was still confident in my abilities, but less willing to show them. By university, I rarely contributed to a lecture or seminar unless a grade depended on it.
As I moved into my professional life, I developed coping strategies. When I was younger, I would only contribute when explicitly invited. Or I’d follow up afterwards, seeking a one-to-one conversation — often meaning I missed the crucial moment to influence the discussion.
When I realised my contributions were often met with positive responses, my confidence grew a little. But I still found myself prefacing comments with: “This isn’t a fully formed thought, but…” or “I’m just thinking out loud, so this might not be quite right…” — even though I’d been rehearsing the comment internally for the previous five minutes.
Now, as a CEO, I’m in a position where people expect me to speak first — or where it’s essential that I disagree to prevent the charity heading in the wrong direction. I still find that uncomfortable. But I’m deeply grateful to a few key people, many of whom never knew the impact they had, who quietly rebuilt my confidence over the course of my career.
A manager who, after a 40-minute discussion with a group of my male peers, asked: “Heather, what do you think?” When I shared the thoughts I’d been too afraid to volunteer, he replied: “That was the most helpful input we’ve had all meeting. Thank you for offering such a clear solution.” It was a powerful reminder of how leaders can validate voices that might otherwise go unheard.
During a rugby coaching course, the tutor asked the all-male group: “Who here technically has the best pass?” They all named the professional player. He simply said, “No — it’s Heather.” That moment of visibility didn’t just build my confidence; it taught everyone in the room to look at ability, not status.
A colleague who, after a partnership meeting, reported back to the team that I’d been brilliant — asking the killer question and ensuring we were positioned correctly in the project.
A CEO who, after I presented to the leadership team on a highly contentious piece of policy development, turned to my line manager and said simply: “She’s good, isn’t she?”
These moments showed me how essential it is to be in environments where it feels safe to speak.
At GFS, we create those moments intentionally. We provide spaces where girls can freely share their thoughts and opinions, explore difficult topics, and ask challenging questions. We validate. We encourage. We build confidence — so girls learn to use their voices.
In a world that tells girls to be quiet, that they don’t have anything important to say, that they should be seen and not heard — we say something different.
Speak up. Be bold. Be yourself.
By supporting our Girls Speak campaign, you’re helping to build a generation of girls who believe their voices matter. You become the manager, the coach, the colleague who builds confidence — moment by moment.
So click the link. And do something truly special this Christmas.