The art of underselling yourself.
And why it doesn't work

I would boldy claim, that I work in an environment that does not discriminate against women. Yet, I am currently the only female software-developer working there. That in itself already sucks. I don't see this as a fault of the company. Women in tech are unfortunately still a rare species. Still, being the only female software-developer is painfully hard to ignore.

If you are now hoping for an inspiring story of an empowered woman making it in a world still dominated by men, you are in for a disappointment.

My lack of self-confidence is pretty profound. It also doesn't help that I only really started coding about a year ago.

My natural reaction to the situation is often to hide behind my inexperience. Instead of communicating "Hi, here I am, capable and ready to learn more!" I make sure to communicate "go easy on me - I have no idea what I am doing". By doing this I am building a protective shell around me, to shield off all the potential judgment that might come my way. I am lowering everyone's expectations of me in order not to disappoint anyone.

So in theory this works out great:

If I fuck up, it's ok, because, as I already told everyone, that I have no idea what I'm doing.
If I actually manage to do something, people will automatically be impressed.

Or not?

Here are a few reasons why this doesn't work:

1. Nobody cares

The whole idea kind of hinges on the assumption, that your colleagues are at all empathetic and care in the slightest what your feelings and experiences are. They probably don't. It has been my experience, at least in software-development, that the main focus is always on the product, or the process, or the productivity - not the person.

Don't get me wrong. My colleagues are in no way anti-social assholes. They are just grossly unaware, of what my thoughts and intentions are, to no fault of their own. Let me explain with two scenarios:

Scenario 1

A new task needs to be implemented. I sort of understand what the goal is, but have no idea how to implement it. To make sure that everyone knows that, I give the team my short "I have no idea what I'm doing" speech.

My expectation: Someone sits down with me and gives me a detailed explanation of all the knowledge I might be missing, knowing intuitively exactly what I know and don't know.

Reality: I get the task anyway, try to figure out as much as I can on my own and have to ask for help in regular intervals. In the end, it takes about three times as long as when someone else does it, but that's ok. No one mentions anything about it.

Scenario 2

A new task needs to be implemented. I sort of understand what the goal is, I sort of have an idea how to implement it. To make sure that everyone knows that, I give the team my short "I have no idea what I'm doing" speech. As with scenario 1 I get the task anyway, but in this case I, in a moment of amazing inspiration, manage to implement the feature well, fast and efficiently.

My expectation: A parade of congratulations breaks out. Everyone makes sure to tell me how in awe they are of my capabilities. A party is thrown to celebrate my awesomeness having exceeded their expectations.

Reality: I get the next task. No one mentions anything about it.

2. My Protective Shell Has a Deadline

This one is clear. It only works for so long. On my first day of work in the new team I was able to elaborate easily on my cluelessness. After even a few weeks this becomes more and more impossible. For one, I turn into a broken record. As soon as I open my mouth, I can almost feel everyone's thoughts explode into outbursts of "Yes, we know! You're inexperienced. Get over it!"

And then if it continues further, I could only say that I am incapable, not inexperienced. After all, what have I been doing here the past few months, if not gaining experience. And to then say that I'm incapable will not inspire a lot of compassion from colleges, who must feel like they are wasting their time.

3. Fear of Hidden Prejudices Trumps All

One might think, that building up this nice protective shell in the beginning gives me enough of an excuse to ask any kind of stupid question I have. It doesn't. That's because it doesn't actually change my level of self-confidence.

Whenever I ask someone a question about what something is, or how something works I am always deathly afraid of it being a stupid question. Not because nobody else asks stupid questions from time to time, but simply because I am a girl.

Now before you roll your eyes and leave the page, mumbling things like " ... feminism ... victimization ... what a cliché...", let me make one thing clear: My colleagues are also definitely NOT misogynistic assholes. Not once has anyone made any comments in my direction that has given me the legitimate feeling that anyone is prejudged because of my gender.

This, for some reason, does not change the fact, though, that I am constantly waiting for it. If I ask something very stupid I always expect everyone to dismiss me as the dumb girl. This is by no fault of my colleagues. It is really all me. Well, maybe I might go so far as to blame some of that on society in general. But I am also willing to admit, that it is mainly in my head.

It's just also something I haven't been able to change so far.