For as long as we can remember, women have been told to be humble, to not be "too much," and to avoid appearing assertive, bossy, or—God forbid—too ambitious. We've been taught that being likeable is more important than success, and that dreaming big is acceptable as long as we don't make anyone uncomfortable. And so, we shrink. We soften our voices in meetings. We add "just" and "sorry" to our emails to make them appear less demanding. We allow people to interrupt us, take credit for our ideas, and tell us we should be grateful for whatever place at the table we are given—no matter how creaky the chair. We downplay our dreams in order to avoid making others feel small, unaware that we are the only ones who lose in this equation. It's a subtle conditioning that begins at a young age and is reinforced by everything from fairy tales that teach us that the ultimate goal is to be chosen by a prince, to workplace advice that encourages us to be "team players" rather than leaders. After years of absorbing these messages, many women begin to realize the concept that being ambitious is somehow wrong.

The world loves ambitious men. We applaud their energy, hunger, and desire to accomplish, whatever it takes. But ambitious women? That's another story. An ambitious woman is perceived as intimidating, unlikeable, and too much. She is labeled selfish if she prioritizes her career, aggressive if she speaks her mind, and ungrateful if she dares to ask for more. If she negotiates a higher salary, she’s difficult. If she is confident in her abilities, she is self-centered. And if she doesn't make an effort to be warm and accommodating, she's cold. Meanwhile, her male counterpart is seen solely as a leader. And this isn't just anecdotal; it's backed by research. Studies have shown that women who display ambition or assertiveness are more likely to be perceived negatively compared to men exhibiting the same traits. The same confidence that makes a man appear competent can make a woman appear arrogant. The same decisiveness that earns a man respect can get a woman labeled as bossy.

This double standard is exhausting, and yet so many women internalize it without even realizing it. We hold ourselves back because we don’t want to ruffle feathers. We dim our light because we’ve been taught that shining too brightly makes others uncomfortable. We hesitate to call ourselves experts, to own our success, to say, “Yes, I deserve this.” Instead, we downplay our accomplishments, brushing them off as luck or good timing rather than hard work and talent. We wait to be invited instead of claiming space. We overthink, we second-guess, we make ourselves small. But for what? To make sure no one feels threatened by our confidence? To ensure we don’t come across as “too ambitious”—as if ambition is something to be ashamed of? And why do we believe that the only way to be accepted is to make ourselves less?

The truth is that no one benefits when women play small. Not us, not our families, not our workplaces, and not the world. Amazing things happen when women embrace their ambition without reservation. Organisations perform better. Innovative ideas thrive. Communities grow stronger. The more women step into positions of power, the more we change the narrative for those coming after us. But that change starts with each of us deciding—right now—that we are done apologizing for wanting more. Wanting more doesn't mean we are ungrateful. It doesn't imply that we're greedy, selfish, or any of the other labels hurled at ambitious women to keep us in check. It simply means that we recognize our worth and refuse to settle for less than we deserve. It means we're willing to demand that seat at the table instead of waiting to be offered one. It means we're tired of clapping politely for others while pretending not to want to win.

Women have been conditioned to believe that pursuing success, riches, power, or influence makes us less feminine, less likable, and less "good." However, when we shrink ourselves to fit into society's ideas of what a woman should be, we don’t just hurt ourselves—we hurt the women coming after us. Every time we play small, we support the notion that women should not take up space. And if we don't challenge that, who will? Think about the little girl watching her mother hesitate before speaking up, the female employee who learns from a supervisor who never asks for a raise, or the friend who sees you deflect compliments and decides she should do the same. Our ambition doesn’t just belong to us; it sets a precedent. And that means we have a responsibility to own it.

So, what does owning ambition look like in practice? It means speaking up in meetings without using phrases like "I'm not sure, but..." or "This might be a bad idea, but..." It means taking credit for our efforts rather than allowing someone else—often a man—to present them as their own. It means setting boundaries and saying no to things that do not benefit us, even if it makes others uncomfortable. It means negotiating for the pay we deserve, not just the pay we are offered. It means applying for jobs, promotions, and opportunities even when we don't meet 100% of the qualifications (because guess what—men do this all the time). It means being okay with the fact that some people won't like us, that not everyone will approve of our choices, that confidence and ambition will always make some people uncomfortable—and realizing that none of that is our problem.

We have to stop policing ourselves, stop worrying about whether we come across as too much, too loud, too confident. The people who will be uncomfortable with our ambition were never rooting for us to begin with. Why should we make ourselves smaller to accommodate them? Why should we carry the burden of making everyone comfortable at the expense of our own potential? The truth is, ambition isn’t the problem. The problem is a world that still struggles to accept ambitious women.

And here's the thing: every time we embrace our ambition, we make it easier for another woman to do the same. When we show up fully, unapologetically, we give others permission to do the same. When we ask for more, we normalize the idea that women deserve more. When we succeed boldly, we remind the world that women, like men, deserve power, wealth, and influence. The more we occupy space, the more we redefine leadership, success, and confidence. And that matters—not just for us, but for every woman who will come after us, watching to see if we will rise or retreat. The reality is, no one is going to hand us the power we deserve. No one is going to clear the path and say, “Here, this is for you.” The world is not designed to make space for ambitious women—we have to make space for ourselves. That means pushing past the discomfort, the fear, the obsolete expectations. It means knowing that some people will misunderstand us, that not everyone will approve, that ambition will always make some people uncomfortable. But none of that should stop us. Because at the end of the day, we owe it to ourselves—and to every woman who comes after us—to be as bold, as brilliant, and as unapologetically ambitious as we are meant to be. And the world will just have to get used to it