6 Lessons From Being The Only Man At A Women's Leadership Conference

Forbes

16-05-2025

Women Leaders Conference
Recently, I attended a women's leadership conference, a space brimming with energy, connection, and an elevated sense of purpose. But what made this experience profoundly unique was that I was the only man in the room.
Walking in, I felt curious. How would I be received? Would my presence alter the dynamics? Just as importantly, how would I perceive this experience? I was stepping into unfamiliar territory, and I didn't fully know what to expect.
But as the day unfolded and the women around me shared their stories, challenges, and dreams, I quickly realized I wasn't there to just observe. I was there to learn. Being 'the only man at the table' became an extraordinary opportunity for growth, empathy, and self-reflection.
Through this one-of-a-kind experience, I walked away with six powerful insights not just about what women leaders are navigating and striving for, but about the role I can play in helping to foster more inclusive environments.
One woman shared how, despite years of accomplishments, she still finds herself having to constantly prove her value in meetings. 'It feels like the bar is always higher for me, no matter how much I achieve,' she admitted. Hearing her story crystallized a simple but essential truth: women leaders want to be seen and respected for their expertise, ideas, and contributions not just as representatives of their gender.
Their frustration wasn't about seeking special treatment, it was about being fully acknowledged for the excellence they can contribute, yet often unseen. It made me reflect on the ways companies and leaders often celebrate representation without fully recognizing the real value individuals contribute.
The takeaway for me was clear. Don't just applaud women because they are women. Respect their impact, ideas, and brilliance they bring to the table.
Authenticity was a recurring theme in the conversations. These women weren't looking for environments where they had to fit in at the expense of their true selves. They wanted spaces where they could lead, create, and thrive as they authentically are.
One moment that stood out was when a speaker shared, 'It's exhausting to constantly calculate how much of myself is acceptable to show.' That vulnerability sparked a deep, honest discussion about the cost of suppressing parts of yourself to belong.
For me, it was a moment of introspection. Are men really creating and contributing to environments where all people can lead with authenticity? Or are they, consciously or unconsciously, reinforcing spaces that ask people to dim their light?
Authenticity isn't a buzzword. It's a necessity for real connection, creativity, and leadership.
The women at the conference weren't there for surface-level conversation. They leaned into tough topics with extraordinary courage. From pay gaps and systemic biases to mental health and leadership fatigue, nothing was off the table. One attendee said it best: 'Change doesn't come from comfort. It comes when we're willing to have the conversations we've been avoiding.'
This sparked a thought: Do leaders encourage meaningful dialogue with the people who challenge them? Do they actively listen, even when it's uncomfortable? Real change demands that we move beyond polite platitudes into the realm of honest, respectful debate.
The courage to confront hard truths reminds me of the power such conversations hold, not just in leadership, but in life.
What struck me most about the conversations on mental health was their openness. These women didn't shy away from sharing their experiences of feeling overwhelmed, judged, or burnt out. One leader told the room, 'Admitting I'm struggling doesn't mean I'm failing. It just means I'm human.'
What happened next was remarkable. Her vulnerability wasn't met with judgment or discomfort. It was met with solidarity, encouragement, and understanding.
It was a powerful reminder that normalizing conversations about mental health is vital—not just for women, but for everyone. Vulnerability creates space for others to step forward with their stories and helps us build more supportive, human-centered environments.
I didn't anticipate the gratitude I received for simply showing up. Several women thanked me for being there, not because I brought ideas, but because my presence signaled a willingness to listen, learn, and understand. One woman said, 'It's good to see you here—we need men who are willing to witness what we experience.'
It was humbling to realize that being an ally isn't always about having answers. Sometimes, it's about learning to be present and engaged without trying to take over the narrative. Being part of their space helped me understand how important visibility and intentional engagement are in supporting inclusion.
Allyship begins with presence. It grows through listening and evolves through action.
Toward the end of the day, we had a lighthearted but meaningful discussion about the term, mansplaining. According to Websters Dictionary, mansplaining is when a man explains something to a woman in a condescending way that assumes she has no knowledge about the topic. The women acknowledged how intent versus perception can complicate communication. One participant noted, 'Sometimes advice or suggestions come from a helpful place, but the delivery makes it feel dismissive.'
This nuanced perspective made me reflect on my own communication. Even when my intent is good, am I pausing to consider how my words and tone might be perceived? The conversation underscored the importance of self-awareness, especially in environments where your voice might carry different weight or meaning.
It's not enough to have good intentions; context and thoughtfulness are just as critical to fostering productive, respectful dialogues.
I walked into the conference unsure of what to expect. I walked out with something far more valuable than insights. I walked out with deeper self-awareness. Being the 'only man at the table' wasn't just about understanding women's challenges and aspirations. It was a mirror, reflecting back areas where I can grow, not just as a leader, but as a human being.
If there's one thing I encourage you to do, it's this: seek out spaces where you might be the only one in the room. Whether it's about gender, a hobby and/or any other perspective, step outside your own lived experience. Be present, listen deeply, and lean into the discomfort.
Because that's where the real growth happens. That's how we create environments where everyone not only has a seat but truly belongs at the table.