178. Why Should You Have It Any Easier?
- cindyesliger
- Aug 7
- 14 min read
Updated: Aug 17

So many of us have been conditioned to believe that enduring hardship is the only way to prove our worth. We’ve witnessed women before us survive toxic work environments, only to see them turn around and demand the same suffering from others. It’s time we stop mistaking suffering for strength and start building environments where we support one another, rise together, and change the system for good.
It was supposed to be about opening the doors, clearing the obstacles, and making sure that what we fought so hard to survive didn’t have to be the next woman’s reality.
Are you tired of feeling like your worth at work is measured by how much hardship you can endure? Are you a mid-career woman wondering if it’s time to walk away because the system feels rigged and unsupportive? Are you questioning why women often end up gatekeeping each other instead of building each other up?
You’ll learn that surviving toxic workplaces isn’t a badge of honor to be passed down — it’s a call to break the cycle and build something better for those coming up behind us. Legacy isn’t measured by how much we endured, but by how much we dismantled to make room for more women to thrive.
WHAT YOU WILL DISCOVER
Why breaking the cycle of gatekeeping is essential to shifting workplace culture and advancing collective progress
5 actionable ways to disrupt the cycle of hardship-as-worthiness and create a more equitable, supportive environment for women at all career stages
Why redefining strength and leadership is crucial to retaining and empowering future women leaders
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TRANSCRIPT
Welcome to the Stop Sabotaging Your Success podcast, episode one hundred and seventy-eight. I'm your host, Cindy Esliger. This is the podcast focusing on what we can do today to take control of our careers and overcome the inevitable barriers to success that we encounter along the way.
There's an uncomfortable tension that simmers just under the surface in many male-dominated industries – one that doesn't always get talked about, but quietly shapes the experience of women trying to rise through the ranks. It's the belief that if one generation of women trying to advance had to endure suffering in order to succeed, the next one should too. That hardship is somehow a necessary rite of passage, or a twisted proof of worth. Instead of dismantling the toxic conditions they fought so hard to survive, some women, consciously or not, end up reinforcing them – turning their pain into gatekeeping and making the path harder for those coming up behind them.
In this episode, we look at breaking this cycle. It's time to build a future where thriving, not simply surviving, is the norm. Because the real goal was never to just endure the hardships of the system, it was to change it. And yet, for many of us, our progress gets stalled by the very people we thought would be more sympathetic to our plight, who seem to be actively making it harder and perpetuating the barriers in our way.
Maybe you've felt that subtle tension in your workplace. I found it wasn't really talked about, but it was definitely there. It's that unspoken, but ever-present, resentment from some women who made it to the top the hard way. The ones who endured the toxic treatment, the impossible double standards, the blatant disrespect – and still clawed their way into leadership. And now, instead of using that hard won seat at the table to make things better for the next generation, they've adopted a new motto: "Why should you have it any easier than I did?".
That question isn't just rhetorical, it's being used as a weapon, often delivered with a smile or disguised as simply high expectations. But the message is clear: if I had to suffer to succeed, so should you. It's a mindset that turns pain into power, then wields that power to control and be the gatekeeper for those coming up behind. This attitude is harmful. It's also heartbreakingly shortsighted.
To be fair, these women didn't ask to be hardened. They were forged in environments that demanded they prove themselves, over and over again, in an attempt to be taken seriously. They broke barriers, but their victories came at a cost – often to their well-being, their confidence, and their sense of safety at work. They had to stomach inappropriate comments and behaviors, accept being overlooked, and work themselves into the ground just to be considered competent. And they did it. They survived. They succeeded. But somewhere along the line, the trauma of what they endured got reframed as a badge of honor, as if the unfairness they overcame became the proof of their worthiness.
And now, instead of asking how we can ensure no one has to go through that again, they're making sure we all have to go through it. Not always maliciously. Sometimes, it's simply the only way they know – because it's what they were taught. But the result is the same: they become the enforcers of the very system that once tried to hold them back. That pain they survived becomes the test of who is 'worthy' to lead, and suddenly, gatekeeping replaces mentorship.
In my opinion, this is how workplace trauma becomes workplace policy.
As we covered in episode one hundred and thirty-eight, there's a dangerous myth in our professional culture that equates toughness with strength – that if you didn't endure years of mistreatment and somehow easily advanced in your career, you're somehow unqualified. That toxic resilience, that ability to absorb abuse and keep smiling, is the gold standard. We glorify it even as it eats us all alive. It's costing us dearly. It's why we lose so many brilliant, driven women in the messy middle of their careers – because they decide that success just isn't worth it, if it means constantly having to prove themselves while striving for goalposts that keep moving further away.
When success gets tied to suffering, we create a system where ease is viewed as entitlement. Where asking for better – better treatment, better boundaries, better balance – is seen as weakness. Where being supported is suspicious. That mindset doesn't just stall progress; it actively undoes it. Because if the only way to prove you're capable is by enduring abuse, then we're not creating better leaders – we're just replicating the same trauma.
Let's call it what it is: internalized misogyny disguised as high standards. And it shows up everywhere.
It's in the shared sideways glances when younger women ask for flexibility.
It's in the passive-aggressive feedback saying they're 'too sensitive' or 'not quite ready' even when their performance says otherwise.
It's in the silence when someone is struggling, because you were taught that's how you learn.
It's in the lack of sponsorship, the scarcity mindset, and the quiet judgment of those who dare to want a healthier work life.
This is how unhealed workplace trauma gets passed down. Many senior women carry deep wounds from years of surviving in hostile work environments. And, without even realizing it, they reenact that harm on the next generation. The mantra of, "I survived it, so you should have to as well" becomes the norm – and the cycle continues. Instead of dismantling the system that wounded them, they reinforce it, unintentionally standing in the way of progress and preventing the very change they once dreamed of.
We see this most clearly when mentorship is replaced by tests of endurance. When young women aren't championed but challenged – not to grow, but to prove they can take the hits. And if they can't, they're deemed not ready. But, what would happen if we stopped testing women's ability to endure and started investing in their ability to lead?
Because the truth is, this isn't just hurting individual careers, it's undermining our collective progress. When we hold onto the past as a measuring stick for future potential, we weaken the power of working together to build something better. We dilute the impact of every barrier that was broken, by making it harder for those who follow. And, we send the message that success for women must always come at a significant personal cost.
I'd like to think it doesn't have to be this way, that we can break the cycle. We can choose support over sabotage, empathy over ego, and collective advancement over personal pride.
We don't owe it to the women before us to have to endure the same abuse in the workplace that they had to. What we do owe them – and ourselves – is to make sure that what they went through wasn't in vain, to make sure the next generation does have it easier. Because that's what progress looks like. And I think that's what they'd want their legacy to be.
When we cling to the idea that hardship must be a rite of passage, we stall progress toward equality in the workplace. The very real pitfalls of perpetuating this type of hardship are all around us, if we're willing to look.
In this way, we end up blocking the way forward by creating workplaces where young women are more likely to burn out before they ever get a real shot at breaking through. Instead of energizing the next generation of leaders, we exhaust them. We lose them before their potential can be fully realized, simply because we demanded that they prove themselves in the same brutal way we once had to.
And it's not just early career talent that we lose. Mid-career women, the ones who fought hard enough to get to manager or director levels, are the ones quietly opting-out at an alarming rate, not because they aren't capable of leveling up, but because they're tired of hitting walls with no meaningful support from anyone. They look up, they look around, and they realize no one is coming to help. They're expected to keep pushing through the same broken system – all on their own.
When this happens, trust quickly erodes between generations. Younger women stop seeing the more senior women as allies. Senior women view the younger ones with skepticism. Collaboration opportunities disappear, replaced by resentment and misunderstanding. We start seeing each other as threats instead of reinforcements. And meanwhile, guess who benefits from all this distrust? The very systems we claim we're trying to dismantle.
It doesn't even matter whether the gatekeeping is malicious or simply unconscious. The results are the same. Progress stalls. Toxic cultures survive. And, we lose the opportunity to redefine what leadership can and should look like.
And why? Because we've all been sold the lie that there's only one seat at the table that we have to compete for. We've been taught that resources are limited, that success is a zero-sum game, and that if another woman wins, somehow it means there's less for the rest of us. That scarcity mindset breeds infighting instead of support, hoarding instead of sharing, and suspicion instead of solidarity. And while we're busy competing with each other for scraps, those already in power sit back comfortably, completely unchallenged.
When we police each other, we're doing the job of the system. We spend our energy proving our own toughness instead of questioning why toughness is the price of admission. We waste time surviving in broken environments instead of demanding better ones.
But, what if we chose differently?
Imagine if we stopped demanding endurance as proof of worth and started offering power through real, tangible support. Imagine if mentorship wasn't about making someone 'tough enough' to endure the abuse, but about working together to make sure that abuse isn't accepted as normal in the first place. Imagine if we stopped expecting resilience to look like suffering in silence, and instead built environments where resilience meant asking better questions and setting better boundaries, in order to create better futures.
In engineering, we need more women staying beyond the mid-career mark. That's not where the journey ends – it's where the real influence begins. It's where decisions start getting made. It's where workplace culture can be recreated. But, if we continue making the price of admission so costly, we'll never get there in enough numbers to shift the dynamic.
If we really want to change what's deemed acceptable in the workplace, then we need women to stay, rise, and lead on their own terms – not by becoming hardened versions of a broken model, but by building an entirely new one. We need to normalize boundaries and empathy. We need to stand together and refuse to perpetuate harm and inequality, even if – or perhaps especially if – it means disappointing those who still believe enduring abuse is the only acceptable path to success.
Our legacy isn't measured by how much hardship we endured; it's measured by what we made possible for the women who come after us. If you're using your experience to make it harder for them, you're not building a legacy – you're reinforcing an unfair playing field.
It's harder to dismantle the status quo if you're still secretly upholding it out of pride for what we were able to endure, or as a misguided belief that all of this is some kind of test of character. And if we don't break the cycle, the costs will continue to be staggering.
Younger talent, full of energy and new ideas, will get disillusioned quickly. They will look around and ask themselves if they even want to succeed in an environment that demands so much personal sacrifice for so little return. And, far too often, they simply walk away. In my own experience, I started to wonder if those I knew who left engineering in the early years were, in fact, the smarter ones, not willing to make that sacrifice, while I continued to hope that I could be the exception.
When experienced women and those new to the industry view each other with suspicion, a culture of comparison and distrust flourishes. Collaboration dies and competition festers. And the industry stays male-dominated – because when women block other women, the vacuum gets filled by the same dominant groups that have always held the reins.
Innovation suffers too. Cultures that punish questioning, that undervalue emotional intelligence and relational skills, stifle the very attributes that could drive industries forward. Fresh ideas get crushed under the weight of "this is how it's always been done". I can't tell you how often I heard that excuse when anything new was proposed.
Leadership then becomes unattainable without soul-crushing sacrifice. If the only model of success is overwork, isolation, and choosing between a career and a personal life, we shouldn't be surprised when fewer women aspire to reach the top. And those who do make it are left isolated and exhausted, sometimes even being set up to fail, just to prove a point.
When working twice as hard is the expectation, equal compensation remains elusive. Systemic issues stay buried, camouflaged under layers of personal toughness or lack thereof – as if grit alone should be enough to overcome blatant discrimination.
Worst of all, the next generation learns the wrong lessons. Instead of learning how to lead with humanity, impact, and authenticity, they learn to survive by toughening up and shutting down. Thriving isn't even on their radar because simply surviving is the only goal. And that's not leadership – that's damage control.
So, what would you say if you were asked, why should you have it any easier?
I would say, it was never supposed to be about who can endure the most mistreatment and still show up smiling. It was supposed to be about opening the doors, clearing the obstacles, and making sure that what we fought so hard to survive didn't have to be the next woman's reality. You having it easier doesn't mean you're somehow less worthy or less capable. It means we're all doing better. It's proof that the sacrifices made by those who came before us weren't wasted – they built something that we can stand on, not suffer under.
The more of us who rise, the stronger we all become. Power doesn't become diluted when it's shared – in fact, it's multiplied. True leadership isn't about exerting power over anyone. It's about building something more sustainable, together.
We shouldn't be worried that making it easier for the next woman is making it 'too easy' for them. It's the most rebellious, legacy-building thing you can do as someone who has succeeded in a system designed to make you believe you shouldn't.
If you're further along in your career, it's time to ask yourself, "Are you more of a gatekeeper or a mentor? Are you reinforcing a broken model because that's how you were shaped? Or are you brave enough to break the mold and lead differently?".
If you're mid-career and ready to throw in the towel – please don't, unless it's truly unbearable and you feel like you need to. You might be closer than you think to wielding real power and influence – the kind that can change workplace culture, organizational policy, and create opportunities for those truly deserving. The kind that doesn't just earn you a seat at the table, but lets you start redesigning the table entirely.
And if you're just getting started, please listen carefully. You deserve support, not shame. You deserve champions, not more barriers thrown in your path by the very people you thought would help you. Your career potential should not be up for debate, if you're willing to put in the hard work. You are not required to endure unnecessary hardship to prove your worth.
We have to start acknowledging that the old refrain of, "I had it harder" is a wound, not a benchmark. It may be a common experience, but it's not one that needs to be perpetuated. It doesn't mean blaming or shaming the woman who came before us – it means refusing to let the abuse quietly become policy for the next generation.
So, how do we disrupt this cycle and actually build something better? Here are five ways that I think we can start doing just that:
Choose Mentorship Over Gatekeeping: Mentorship is about providing guidance and support. It's not about weeding people out who 'can't cut it'. It's about lifting people up so they can find a different path. It's honoring the strength it took to survive the old ways, while building something better. We have a chance to celebrate the women who came before us for what they endured, without expecting the next generation to replicate that trauma as some sort of worthiness test.
Redefine What Strength Looks Like: Strength is not silent suffering. It's also not isolation or working yourself into the ground. Real strength includes rest, boundaries, being open to collaboration, and delegating without guilt. Strength is using your voice without sacrificing your sanity. Leading doesn't have to look like barely surviving.
Celebrate Collective Wins: Normalize women helping other women and cheering each other on without suspicion. It's believing that success isn't a scarce resource we have to fight each other for. Every woman who succeeds doesn't take something away from you – she makes it more possible for all of us to rise.
Push For Structural Change: This can't be about individual resilience anymore. We need systems, policies, and workplace cultures that don't require heroics just to stay afloat. We need more equitable, merit-based hiring processes, real sponsorship, and family-friendly policies. There should also be more accountability and less acceptance of toxic behavior.
Create New Measures of Readiness and Performance: Stop confusing exhaustion with dedication. Stop rewarding the person who 'sacrificed the most' as if that's the highest achievement. Start valuing clarity, strategic thinking, insight, emotional intelligence, consistency, and, above all, results, rather than hours spent at your desk. Those are real markers of leadership, not just how many nights someone stayed late and gave up time with their families to prove they were committed.
The real legacy isn't how much hardship you endured; it's how many barriers you dismantled so that someone else wouldn't have to. That's the legacy worth fighting for. That's the legacy that actually moves us forward.
If we keep perpetuating the old cycle, we all have a lot to lose. We lose brilliant, diverse talent to burnout and disillusionment. We also lose future leaders because we made success look like personal sacrifice instead of professional fulfillment. It reinforces pay gaps and unfair recognition structures. We end up teaching the wrong lessons – lessons about survival instead of leadership, and toughness instead of thriving.
But, if we choose differently, if we disrupt the cycle, we don't just make it easier – we make it better. We can redefine success, multiply our power, and reshape the future.
Choosing to make it easier for the next generation doesn't diminish your strength, it reinforces it. You survived, yes, but your real power is in making sure others don't have to endure the same. Let's be the generation that doesn't just survive the system. Let's be the generation that changes it.
So, if you're one of the few who has made it to the top – thank you. You broke through the barriers many of us are still grappling with. But, please don't use your survival story as a weapon. Instead, use it as a reason to lead differently, to mentor generously, and to build the kind of workplace you wish you had had.
And, if you're coming up behind us, know this: you don't have to earn your place through enduring the toxicity. You belong because of your talent, your vision, and your courage, not just your ability to endure mistreatment. Don't confuse hardship with merit. You are allowed to want better. You are meant to have it easier. Otherwise, what has all of this really been for?
Together, we have the power to build a future where women thrive, lead, and help each other achieve more than ever before. Help us break the cycle.
And that's it for this episode of Stop Sabotaging Your Success. Remember to download your Guide to Breaking The Cycle at cindyesliger.com/podcast, episode one hundred and seventy-eight.
Thank you to our producer, Alex Hochhausen and everyone at Astronomic Audio. Get in touch, I'm on Instagram @cindyesliger. My email address is info@cindyesliger.com.
If you enjoy listening to this podcast, you have to come check out The Confidence Collective. It's my monthly coaching program where we dig a little deeper into what's holding you back in your career and we find the workarounds. We help you overcome the barriers and create the career you want. Join me over at cindyesliger.com/join. I'd love to have you join me in The Confidence Collective.
Until next week, I'm Cindy Esliger. Thanks for listening.





