Women can often feel like they can't or shouldn't ask for support or help with their career development. Some feel that by asking for support they are admitting that they fall short of the required standard – I felt it was a sign of weakness to my peers that suggested I wasn't ready for the next rung on the career ladder.
Despite its bad press, the "old boys' club" was a brilliant network of support for men who wanted to stretch themselves and learn more, and influence those in power to help their own career. In turn, senior management took the risk to help and assist those they felt worthy of gambling their reputation on. As soon as more women realise that asking for development is seen as a positive attribute, then the more women we will see reaching the top.
The best thing I ever did was get a mentor. He was a male director who not only inspired me and that I aspired to be more like, but who also had all the skills I did not have. I felt almost uncomfortable in his presence but I wanted his approval from a business perspective – I felt that if I could get him to believe and invest in me, then others would follow. I didn't choose him because he was a man; it was because I felt he was the person who could teach me the most. I work in a mostly male-dominated sector; in fact, going back to the days when I was seeking a mentor, I would have struggled to find a senior woman to ask.
Having worked in such an environment, I am fully against quotas to employ women in business; I never want my place in a business questioned because someone says that I got there because of my gender and not my skills. I have worked tirelessly to become a managing director, and being a woman has not hindered or helped my career progression. I selected this mentor because he was analytical, driven and a numbers man who was very focused and considered: it was irrelevant he was a man.
Before I approached him to be my mentor, I thought long and hard about the what's-in-it-for-me factor – I knew he was busy and I needed to prove I would be a worthy use of his time. I looked at my skills and how they differed from his, but thought that might be seen as arrogant. But I noted that maybe, by spending some time with me, it would allow him to understand the importance of leadership and the effect he had on those around him. Very few people at the top get feedback: those who work with them don't feel they should say anything, and peers seldom congratulate their peers so often those highest up the career ladder rarely understand the effect they have on their staff or teams.
I once heard a great story about a "lollipop moment". A girl, who couldn't face joining university, was standing in the queue with her parents to enrol. She started to have a panic attack when a guy dressed up as a clown raising money for charity handed her a lollipop. As she reached out and took it, he said: "See, only left home a day and you're already accepting sweets from a stranger." She laughed and suddenly realised that she could do it. Years later she found him and thanked him for that lollipop, a defining moment in her journey to becoming a doctor, although he hadn't realised the effect he'd had.
When I first approached my mentor, I gave him a lollipop moment. I called him, with my heart racing and my words clearly prepared. I explained how I had heard him talk at a conference and that his words had empowered me to take charge of my career and ensure that I never missed another opportunity. In return for his investment of time, he received the ability to understand how he can ensure he maintains that level of motivation across his wider team.
We agreed he would guide me through some tough business decisions when I felt incapable of finding the solution alone: he would take time out of his busy day to help me get through mine more effectively. My mentor pushed me, made me feel uncomfortable, asked questions of me that I could not answer, set me tasks that I was tempted to procrastinate over because they were hard, but above all he gave me the confidence to achieve, to be demanding of myself and others. He gave me the belief in myself and all that I wanted to become and develop into.
If I look back at the moments that define my career, they're the ones where I worked outside my comfort zone. You respond to your team better, you listen harder to the problem, focus more clearly on the issues, and you strive more. These are the moments I learned from others through coaching, listening and not being afraid to take personal risks and leaps of faith.
To this day I will still call my mentor and ask him for advice, but the nicest thing about the relationship now is he often calls me for assistance, too.
My career journey could not have been mapped out. A career path needs to be fluid: allow it to flow and wash over you, learning from every experience. I drop my children off at school in the hope they witness something that will spark their interest and imagination and enable them to learn, willingly. We need to do the same at work without the fear of looking foolish, to ask the questions that need addressing with conviction, belief, certainty and composure.
I heard a lovely saying yesterday in a film I was watching with my children. It said: "Yesterday is a memory, tomorrow is a mystery, but today is a gift. That is why we call it the present." It was a gentle reminder to remain focused, live in the moment and to do that well. For every day we work and take on a new challenge, we're a day closer to succeeding. One of the key things stopping more women from reaching the top is confidence – so go out there and get it, or at least find someone who will inspire you and get you started on your voyage.
Susannah Schofield is the author of Mind the Gap
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