It's not the crystal show... or is it?

Let me be clear, it's not the Crystal Show.

But after decades of showing up, delivering results, mentoring others, picking up the slack for others, and excelling in every role I've held, I shouldn't have to keep proving my worth every time a client or peer requests me by name.

When clients and peers ask for me specifically, it's not about ego or favoritism or because "I must have done something for them" It's about trust. It's about reputation. It's about knowing that when something really matters, I'll handle it with excellence, professionalism, consistency, and without judgement. That kind of trust isn't given lightly in our industry. It's earned, one long-ass day, one hard conversation, and one delivered result at a time. Over and over again!

And yet, most of my peers treat that trust like a threat.

Instead of seeing my experience as an asset to the team, to our industry, they roll their eyes and blatantly ignore me in group conversations, withhold support, or suggest that I'm trying to steal the spotlight. As if I asked for this attention!

Imagine climbing into your dozer, powerful enough to move mountains, yet still feeling the weight of something heavier: being the only woman out there. It's a strange kind of loneliness. You're surrounded by people all day, but somehow still feel invisible. Or worse, watched. Like you're always one mistake away from confirming every unspoken doubt in the field. The silence in the break room, the side glances, the ass grabs, the jokes you're not invited into, those are the quieter dozers that push at you daily.

There's pride in doing the work. Real pride. Running a machine takes skill, finesse, and grit. And I know I've got all three. But being the only woman in the seat, means you're constantly balancing between proving you belong and refusing to justify your right to be there in the first place.

It's not that I need a parade. I don't want special treatment. I just want what everyone else wants: respect. Camaraderie. A fair shot. But in an industry that doesn't operate with women in mind, you learn to carry yourself differently. You learn to keep your guard up. You learn to get used to the echo of your own footsteps, because often, you're the first to walk the path. In an industry where the cultural norm says to "earn your place" in spaces you've already outworked everyone to be in.... over and over and over again!

As if I haven't spent years doing the exact kind of behind-the-scenes, boot-on-the-ground work that most people never notice, until it's their reputation or contract on the line.

Here's the thing, I'm tired of having to shrink to make other people comfortable. I'm tired of being asked to "tone it down" or "share the stage" when I've spent years building the very stage we're standing on. I've worked my ass off in every facet of this industry, from the frontline to the corporate suite. I've earned my place here.

So no, it's not the Crystal Show...

Or is it?

Because if "the Crystal Show" means relentless no bull-shit dedication, engaged servant leadership that remains present, client trust at every level, and operational excellence, then maybe it is.

Not because I made it about me, but because I refused to settle for mediocrity. Because I always said yes to the hard jobs. Because I stepped up and led when no one else wanted to. Because I took and continue to take to this day the one right after another, often jaw dropping hits and keep showing up.

If that's what people are calling "the Crystal Show", then I'll wear it like a badge. But let's be honest, this shouldn't be a "show" at all. It should be the standard. And there's room for anyone who's ready to rise to it.

So yes, clients ask for me. My name comes up. My work gets noticed. I leave impressions on our future leaders. And instead of asking why that is or how they can grow too, some people would rather throw shade, whisper behind closed doors, or leave me out of things completely. Here's the thing, I'm not your competition, I'm on your team. I'm not here to steal the spotlight, I'm here to make sure the whole show doesn't fall apart. So, if seeing me succeed makes you uncomfortable, that's something you need to unpack. Because I'm not dimming my light to make you feel better in the shadows.

You don't have to like me. You don't even have to cheer for me. But you do need to just leave me be.

I've got work to do. The frontline to serve. Standards to uphold. I've earned every bit of respect I get, and I refuse to apologize for it.

I'm here to get it done!