“She’s just too emotional.”
It’s a phrase that continues to follow women in the workplace — like an invisible leash, tugging us back whenever we dare to show how deeply we care. But let’s pause for a moment and ask: What do we really mean when we say that? And is being emotional the same as being unprofessional?
One emotion seems widely accepted — sometimes even rewarded: anger, at least, when men express it.
During a conversation on inclusion, a man spoke to me in a way that was not only dismissive of women but also discriminatory. As I stood my ground and called it out, he interrupted with a smug smile and said, “Don’t be that angry woman again.”
“That angry woman.”
That phrase made me feel even angrier — but not in the shouting, name-calling kind of way, because that’s never okay, for anyone. Anger, when weaponised to intimidate, is not leadership. But this anger was different. It came from a place of injustice, from enduring microaggressions, from the exhaustion of always having to stay calm, composed, and likeable.
Another woman I spoke to — let’s call her Anita — shared a similar experience.
“I was angry,” she told me. “More senior people ignored me and failed to deliver the advice the client needed. It went against my values, and I got angry.” She recounted it with passion. “But when I spoke up, he looked at me like I was out of control. I wasn’t. I was clear. I was frustrated. But the second a woman changes her tone, or even raises her eyebrows, we’re suddenly ‘emotional.’”
Emotions are not the problem
The way we judge them is. When I spoke to a Chief Human Resource Officer in India and asked her about the myth that women are too emotional for leadership, she scoffed: “Pfff. You should see the boys in the boardroom,” she said. “When they don’t get their way, they slam fists on the table. They shout. Can you imagine the consequences if I did that?”
Why is anger acceptable — almost expected — when it’s a man expressing it, but frowned upon when a woman expresses it, even calmly and in pursuit of fairness? The truth is, emotions are data. They’re signals from our inner world, trying to tell us something. The real question isn’t whether we show emotion, but how we show it. If emotion inspires others, drives clarity, and demands fairness, then it’s not weakness. It’s leadership. Let’s not forget the emotions that build workplace culture: pride, gratitude, compassion, and joy.
I’ll be speaking soon to a group of 500 people about the power of gratitude. Numerous studies demonstrate that a simple, heartfelt “thank you” is one of the most effective ways to enhance employee engagement. Not performance reviews. Not bonuses. Just a genuine, daily acknowledgement that someone’s effort mattered.
Yet these positive emotions — more often expressed by women — are undervalued in many corporate cultures. That needs to change.
So the question isn’t: Should women temper their emotions in meetings? The better question is: What might our workplaces look like if we stopped policing emotion — and started embracing it? Wisely. Respectfully. With humanity.
DEI: Evolution or revolution?
“We’re making great progress,” the CEO said in a meeting with his top leadership team.
I looked around the room — one other woman besides me, and everyone else had fair or quite fair skin. “Progress,” I thought, “can be very subjective.”
What followed was predictable: “We do have diversity of thought — look at all the different degrees in the room! Engineering, chemistry, business.” He listed the various nationalities and socio-economic backgrounds represented. But to me, “diversity of thought” in a room full of men is an alarm bell.
Let’s be honest: real conversations, the ones that matter, still happen on the golf course, over beers, or in WhatsApp groups that don’t include women. The networks remain tight and male. The boys still invite their protégés. The rest of us? We’re still trying to break through the golf course ceiling. If that’s progress, we need to aim higher.
Meanwhile, women are leading the Diversity, Equity, and Inclusion (DEI) work — corporate committees, employee resource groups. All unpaid. I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve heard companies ask, “How do we get men involved in our diversity and inclusion committees?” Some even suggest, “Maybe we should pay them to join.” Pay men to do the work women have been doing unpaid for years? It would be funny — if it weren’t so insulting.
Women are already project managers of the unpaid labour at home: childcare, elder care, emotional calendars, and life admin. Now, in the workplace, we’re expected to carry the unpaid burden of diversity, too?
Equity cannot be built on top of inequality.
So, evolution or revolution?
History shows that sometimes, a single bold act changes everything.
Rosa Parks, a 42-year-old seamstress, refused to give up her seat to a white man on a cold winter day in Montgomery, Alabama, in 1955. Her defiance sparked a seismic shift in the civil rights movement. It was nothing short of a revolution. It looked small at the time, but it echoed loudly through history.
But for every Rosa Parks, we need thousands of people taking evolutionary steps — small, daily actions that push boundaries. Like speaking up when someone is dismissed for being the “wrong profile”: too dark-skinned, too outspoken, too working-class, too female.
We need bold moves — and steady ones. And let’s not underestimate what happens when we set targets and stick to them.
In 2016, BHP — an Australian mining company — set a bold goal: 40% of its hires would be women by 2025. At the time, only 17% of its workforce were women. In April 2025, BHP reached 40 per cent female representation in their global employee workforce. This is a world-first for a global listed mining company in one of the world’s most male-dominated industries. Because what gets measured gets done. It always has. The same was true when Ireland, a deeply Catholic country, voted to legalise same sex marriage on May 22, 2015, and it came into effect in November 2016. That revolutionary moment was built on years of quiet evolution: activism, conversations, awareness.
That one bold decision didn’t just legalise marriage — it opened hearts, shifted norms, and normalised equality. So no, we don’t have to wait for the perfect revolution. But we do need bold leadership — and the courage to act.
So no, we don’t have to wait for the perfect revolution. But we do need bold leadership — and the courage to act. Evolution often places the responsibility on the individual: You must be more inclusive. You speak up. But without systemic change and top-down commitment, we’re still asking the already overburdened to carry the load for everyone else.
Maybe the real revolution is this:
To stop calling equity “radical”—
And to start calling it what it truly is:
Necessary.
(Mette Johansson is a leadership coach, author, and gender equity advocate, helping organisations cultivate inclusive and authentic leadership.)