The CFO position had still not been replaced and the CTO was smart in making himself indispensable. Reports were not ‘overdue’, but ‘justifiably late’. Issues with payroll or IT in my division were not prioritised. The CTO was the king of political game-playing, making Machiavelli look like a pre-schooler. I, on the other hand, was the pre-schooler’s blind, three-legged puppy. Zero read of the situation, oblivious to any danger and risk.

Instead, I expended my efforts trying to please, appease and placate. It seemed I had learned nothing from the last experience, except how to lick my wounds. Until it all became too much.

I couldn’t figure out how to win or play the game. My energy was being diverted away from my job, and I was stressed. So, once again, I went to his office. It was a similar situation: his door was ajar and there was again no acknowledgement when I made my presence known. I wasn’t meek this time: there was no tea, but also no confidence.

I made the mistake of letting my emotions override my thinking, and I was aggressive. I had played into his hand, but he didn’t come out that well either. People heard our heated and emotional conversation and some of the accurate assertions I placed on him. He threw some equally on-point observations back. It was ugly. As I left his office, I could feel my heart racing. This was not good. Then, the finale for all to hear, he yelled out those words: “You’ve got balls”. I was mortified and humiliated.

The shame from grade 5 — when I fought a boy in the playground — raced back into my mind (even though I had won). I wasn’t meant to be fighting this battle. I tried to spin it differently. Maybe it was a compliment? It wasn’t. I reflected a lot. Was I being aggressive? Did I deserve the name-calling? (For the record, nobody deserves name-calling.)

My ruminations continued. Did I need to work on my style and tone? The whole ordeal made me feel unworthy and embarrassed. There were more psychological beat-ups and hours of negative self-talk and criticism.

Then I thought: Was this meant to be a subtle suggestion that my success hinges on adopting male traits? This not only challenged my sense of identity, but also perpetuated the stereotype that I needed to emulate men to be an effective leader. The slur was an intended putdown. It worked.

The discomfort and stigma stayed with me for a long time. Imagine the negative impact of my future workplace conversations, wanting to be assertive but second-guessing myself, especially with male colleagues. That went on for years. I started to apologise before contributing at meetings, thinking it would soften my approach. Instead, it made me look weak.

Looking back now, I can see that the issue with the CTO stemmed from his own insecurity and unprofessionalism. If only I had shrugged it off sooner, my professional development could have advanced so much more quickly.

There’s a hidden cost to diminished self-worth and self-doubt; they become weights that stunt personal and professional progress. Confidence may be intangible, yet its absence has noticeable heft. The one strategy I didn’t employ at the time was to enlist help. It never crossed my mind to ask for advice or to report the behaviours or confide in my boss.

I would now advocate seeking assistance and advice and reporting such behaviours. It’s a fine line knowing what is appropriate, what is normal business politics, what is game playing and what is out-and-out bullying and discriminatory behaviours.

Former political adviser Peta Credlin shares with me similar experiences, recalling times she was mocked and ridiculed simply for being a woman. She noted: “It was always ‘the woman thing’ because they couldn’t attack the runs on the board. Maybe it’s because I’m not a diminutive woman and perhaps if I’d spoken more softly and if I didn’t give the whole truth and whispered it behind their backs, instead of saying it to their face. Maybe then it would have been different.”

Reflecting further, she added: “Perhaps all of that, in aggregate terms, is confronting.” Confronting, yes… in an inspirational and enlightening way.

I wish I had known back when I was at loggerheads with the CTO what I know now. I believe in being accountable and having self-awareness and reflection. It is one of my strengths. However, I often take too much responsibility when it’s not due. If I’d had the older me as a guide, the advice would’ve been to reflect and learn, have better control of my emotions, and not overreact, but equally I should’ve “only given it a minute of my time. A minute.” Silence the negative self-talk and wallow, and reinstate yourself back to your deserved and earned place.

For the record, when I am in the moment, I still don’t know how to respond to such comments if they are spoken or inferred – they still happen and catch me off guard. But I do know how to respond afterwards, when I am by myself. I no longer let them take root in my mind.