There’s a kind of jealousy among us, women, that isn’t mean. It doesn’t openly attack. It smiles politely, avoids eye contact, forgets your name in the credits, gives confusing feedback, posts the photo where only she looks good, and calls it empowerment.
It’s subtle. Administrative.
And if you’ve ever walked away from a meeting, or a family gathering, feeling like something was off but hard to name, you’ve probably encountered it.
This is not the jealousy of wanting what someone else has.
This is the jealousy of needing to reduce what someone else is.
Women’s Jealousy and Competition Didn’t Start With Us, It’s Inherited
For most of history, women were allowed into public power one at a time.
One woman at the table. One exception.
Women were integrated into society through instructions presented as policy. One formal method was the use of quotas. These quotas often had unintended consequences: they signaled that one woman at the table was progress; two might be disruptive.
Historically, quotas used in Europe in the 20th century as integrative measures, sometimes to ensure women had symbolic presence in industry, politics, and academia.
The first female positions were framed as exceptional or experimental. The implicit message: we allow one woman at the table, but she must not disrupt the status quo.
One woman at the table signals progress. Two still signals disruption.
Sentences that sounded polite, moral, even protective, yet quietly trained women to minimise themselves:
“Be grateful for the opportunity.”
“Don’t be too much.”
“You represent all women.”
“You’re not like the others.”
Mary Wollstonecraft (the world’s first feminist) wrote in the 18th century that women were trained to seek approval rather than developing their mind.
Sideways Competition
If a woman believes that visibility, success, admiration, or authority are limited resources, she sees other women not as collaborators, but as competitors for survival.
Not consciously. Not intentionally.
Structurally.
In that mindset, another woman’s presence doesn’t feel additive, it feels threatening. Not because the other woman is intimidating per se, but because her existence exposes a fear: If she is seen, will I disappear?
A woman who feels secure competes forward. She builds. She innovates. She wants to know more and educates herself. She lets her work speak. She might come across as demanding, bossy or bold, but she’s clear. Forward competition has a clear direction. It creates movement.
But when a woman thinks that the place is limited, something else happens. She doesn’t compete forward. Coz again, it’s not that she wants to be where you are. She competes sideways.
Sideways competition avoids direct comparison because direct comparison risks losing.
So instead of improving her input, she manages the environment:
• Who gets shown as important
• Who is introduced by authorities
• Whose ideas are followed
• Whose presence is subtly minimised
Sideways competition isn’t about excellence. It’s about control of perception. It often shows up as:
over-correcting another woman; withholding credits; passively dismissing; strategic silencing; and giving curated visibility.
Sideways competitors use leadership as performance instead of using it as practice.
Because the goal is not to win by being better, as men are often competing.
The goal is to make sure no one else outshines.
How the Quotes Became the Rule
Think about it like the meeting room with ten chairs. Nine are occupied by men. There is space for one woman.
She is not simply a professional among professionals, she becomes the woman. The proof that the system is fair enough. The exception that confirms the rule.
If another woman enters, she would not think, “What does she bring?”, most likely it would be: “Why do they need two of us?”
So the first woman learns something quickly: her seat feels safer if no other women sits next to her.
Not because she dislikes other women, but because her presence was conditional.
Patriarchal systems rewarded women who aligned with hierarchy, not sisterhood. So we learned to guard space instead of expand it.
That survival strategy once made sense.
It makes no sense now. However, today quotas still remain:
• In several European countries, political parties are required to include a minimum share of women candidates (often 35 % or 50 %).
• Panel discussions celebrating the one female voice among male experts
• Policies praising inclusion symbolically rather than structurally
• EU publicly listed companies by law must have at least 33 % of all board members from the underrepresented gender
And I understand the intentions here; they are positive, but how will this change if we, women, continue thinking small?
Brand Anxiety: Visibility as Currency
Nowadays visibility is a big power. Who gets photographed. Who gets credited. Who is claimed as the authority.
When someone quietly removes another woman from the narrative, they’re not disagreeing with her ideas, they’re controlling exposure. It’s called brand anxiety.
Brand anxiety appears when identity is built on position rather than impact.
When someone’s sense of worth is tightly connected with how they are perceived, how they are seen by others, or whom they are associated, any competing presence feels destabilising. The room stops being a place of exchange and becomes a stage to control.
Brand anxiety asks constant, exhausting questions:
• How am I being seen?
• Who will be associated with authority?
• Will someone else take my visibility?
Under brand anxiety, collaboration feels risky. So energy shifts away from contribution and common goals and lands on the old good survival. This is where really leadership performance replaces leadership practice.
True leadership is rooted in competence; it doesn’t panic when others shine, in fact it likes being surrounded by other strong and capable peers, because the real leader has more depth beneath the surface.
How to Respond to Other Women’s Jealousy and Competition Without Becoming What You Resist
Here’s what rarely gets said: this behavior doesn’t just affect the woman it’s directed at. It changes the entire room. The atmosphere tightens. Creativity contracts. Other women sense that visibility comes with punishment. Nothing good grows there. Not trust. Not achievements. Not collective strength.
Women’s jealousy and competition doesn’t only show up in offices. It also not that rare at expanded family dinners, between friends and sisters-in-law, in WhatsApp voice notes that start sweet and end sharp. If you know, you know.
So if it’s so common and so old, what on earth I should do about it, you might ask
First: Understand the game your nervous system wants to play. Psychologically, when someone subtly diminishes you, your body reacts before your mind does. That’s normal. That’s not weakness. We are made to act to good, reacting to something negative requires a pause.
When an environment feels threatened, we tend to seek balance, not truth.
In situations when a sideways competitor provokes you, you may feel the urge to:
• Explain yourself just a bit more
• Prove you’re competent/good/right
• Win them over with excellence
• Or shrink to keep the peace
Pause. Going out of your way just to make peace with somebody who feels the need to expose their insecurities is not making peace; it’s only destabilising yourself.
Second: Don’t argue with someone who is focus on protecting their role. Sociologically, many people don’t defend ideas; they defend positions. At work, it might sound like: “I’ve always done it this way.”, while in families: “Well, in this family, we…”
Trying to convince someone who praises their role or hierarchy is like negotiating with a smoke alarm that goes off by mistake. It’s scary because it’s loud, not because there’s a fire.
So instead of debating, remove the role threat. Calm phrases like “I’ll think about that.” or Interesting, thanks for explaining your way.” usually work miracles.
Remember: you don’t need to attend every argument you’re invited to.
Third: Refuse the invitation to compete sideways. Sideways competition tries to pull you into competition: who’s more capable, more senior, or more respected.
At work, it’s the colleague who corrects you publicly or changes something just for the sake of changing. In families, it’s the mother-in-law who subtly implies she knows better how her son would like to.
The cure? Stay boring. Short answers. Neutral tone. Consistent behavior. Nothing confuses a sideways competitor more than someone who doesn’t react. And you’re not being passive here, you’re understanding the game. They want to prove their authority through things that you are already in charge of. I think the authority is clear here.
Fourth: Don’t try to adjust yourself to it. People often interpret you through their own unmet needs. It can be that you are young, active, beautiful, communicative, you have family, you take care of yourself, while they are simply aging while being overstressed by constantly holding their position in place. No amount of clarification fixes that. So let your work stand. Let your relationships speak. Let time expose patterns.
Fifth: Revise your idealised relationship. This part is rarely named. Many women get really affected by other women’s jealousy and competition because they’re living in a fantasy about the supportive colleague, the fair boss, the warm mother-in-law, the sisterly bond. And that all can be achieved, but it might take a lifetime to create. Understanding that not all environments are ideal doesn’t mean giving up. It means accepting what is, so you can start searching for better or building better.
Finally: Behave how you wish others would. Systems only change when someone breaks the pattern, not to teach them a lesson, but to stay aligned with yourself and attract others alike.
So credit other women, share space, stay grounded and share your knowledge.
Because the most glitching thing you can do to those who are jealous? Is stand for your ideas, not for the crown on your head.
This kind of jealousy isn’t wicked.
It’s simply unfinished work.
