(And What It’s Actually Worth)

The Mirror

In second grade, the girls in my class wanted one thing: a mirror in the girls’ bathroom.

We talked about it constantly. Huddled by the sinks, desperately using the reflective faucets as a makeshift mirror. Each recess, we’d complain to each other, wishing someone would do something. Weeks went by. Nothing changed.

So I had an idea. Surely, a signed petition from every girl in our grade should catch the attention of our teachers. Signed. Sealed. Delivered… straight to, yeah you guessed it, the Principal’s office!

She looked at me, this quirky, overly confident, totally nervous, way-out-of-my-depth kid clutching a piece of notebook paper. I’ll never forget it. As I handed her the crumpled paper, she said, “State your case.”

So I did.

“We believe we deserve a mirror in the girls’ bathroom. We huddle up each day and create long lines looking into the faucets, checking our hair, applying our lip gloss. And a mirror would change that. Less lines, more comfort. So that’s why we deserve a mirror in the girls’ bathroom.”

She said, “Thank you, you are free to go.” She sent me on my way.

The following Monday, there was a mirror in the girls’ bathroom.

The Same Pattern, Grown Up

Years later, in Cambridge, Massachusetts, I was in a very different kind of meeting, negotiating my title and yearly pay. I was told, plainly: there’s no more budget. My salary was capped at the band I was already in. End of conversation, as far as they were concerned.

However…here’s the thing about a closed door: it only confirms one path is closed off.

Instead of accepting the no and walking away, I asked a different question. Was there a separate budget, a stipend, a fund, anything, for professional development? For conferences related to the innovation work I was doing?

As second grade me was primed to do, I stated my case:

“By providing me with a professional development stipend, there would be an immediate tangible return for the company. I would take what I learned through conferences and training courses and apply it directly to advancing the company’s work.”

To my pleasant surprise, the answer was YES. Five thousand dollars a year, split across two conferences, fully covered.

While it wasn’t a raise, it was money I would have otherwise spent out of my own pocket for development that would benefit me and the company. It was also proof of something bigger: speaking up and advocating for myself didn’t have to stop with an unsuccessful salary negotiation. Rather, I could use my voice to get curious about other pathways of support and investment.

What Both Stories Have in Common

A second grader with a petition and a professional negotiating her worth aren’t as far apart as they may seem. Both moments required the same three things:

1. Naming your goal out loud, instead of just thinking it.
2. Stating your case, connecting it to WIIFT (what’s in it for them).
3. Staying in the conversation after the first no, instead of letting it be the final word.

This points to the cost equation: when we stay quiet, we leave what’s possible on the table; in my case, the mirror and the $5K. For you, that might look like the promotion, the title, the new business.

Whatever is calling you forward deserves to be amplified via your voice.

What Silence Actually Costs

Silence feels safe. Of course. It’s the absence of risk. It saves us potential embarrassment, rumination, judgment, and self-critical spirals. I am all for limiting exposure to uncomfy-ness.

BUT over the span of a career, a decade, a lifetime: we must ask ourselves the cost of the promotions never asked for, budgets never questioned, ideas that stayed in the group chat instead of being enjoyed IRL.

To me, THIS is the real price ($) tag. Foregoing and missing out on what could be.

The Reframe that Changed Everything

I loved hearing from a good friend:

“What are you so afraid of? If you get a no, aren’t you in the same spot you’re in right now?”

She doesn’t know it, but she unlocked a powerful realization and reframing for me. I used to think that getting a no, or a rejection, meant I was experiencing a setback — something that put me in a worse-off place compared to not asking. Perhaps because I was assigning negative value to rejection and the hit to my ego.

The reframe available to all of us is to recognize a net neutral outcome. If I ask and get a no, I am no worse off and no better off. I’m in fact right where I was before.

Running with this mindset, I’ve kept using my voice to ask and advocate for the things that matter to me because either I’m left no worse off and I continue about my day, or I get a yes, forward movement that gets me closer to my goals.

Your Turn

All I’m saying is: you don’t need a petition or a negotiation to practice this.

You need one small moment where you say the thing out loud instead of just thinking it or letting it go…poof!

That’s exactly what we practice at Girl, Grab the Mic™. A welcoming, judgement-free zone where women practice using their voices out loud.

Hot take: defending pineapple on pizza and defending your budget proposal flex the same internal muscle: speaking up, stating your case, and mobilizing an audience around your POV. Every rep counts, every time you grab the mic, you are toning the muscles and building the confidence for when it matters. We practice here, in our brave space, so we can show up with that elevated confidence when the stakes are higher.

If you’re in the Twin Cities, I’d love to see you in one of our rooms. Your voice belongs here.

Come find out what your voice is actually worth.