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She was 40, successful and had just been canned because her boss told her she had “an edge.”

“Why do I scare the hell out of people?” she asked me. “People either love me or hate me. I am told I need to tone it down, not to push so hard. I’ve been called a ‘bitch.’ What do I need to do?”

 I wondered:  “Why the hell are you asking me that?  That’s my problem.”

 That conversation happened eight years ago in front of seven senior executives who’d coaxed me into hopping into rental cars and heading for a Mexican border town after I’d done the keynote for their women’s leadership conference. They assumed that I had all the answers. Not that time.

 That woman had bared a raw truth that, after a few more drinks, every one of the other executives shared. They, too, felt like misfits. Outsiders. They had achieved so much success, power and authority, but they’d always gotten nailed when they exerted a little force. People sniped behind their backs, “Do you know what she’s done this time?” As managers, they were hired to shake things up, make things better, or improve the bottom line, but when they made changes, they were met with a resounding chorus of, “That bitch!”

That conversation led me to interview everyone from Hillary Clinton to Arianna Huffington to Susan Sarandon for my book, Mustang Sallies which I am not mentioning here as a transparent attempt to boost sales. I bring it up because it was published five years ago and women are still feeling the same pain.

 Things have gotten better because more women are in power and fewer men are surprised to see them there. In fact, there are legions of good men who are championing this generation of women executives so they will be more effective and successful. I don’t hear the word “bitch” as often as I used to. I see women going faster and farther. But, have we resolved the issues that kept that woman feeling watched and judged? No.

There are still things women leaders can and cannot do because we are still operating in a restricted zone of operation. We are not to say things with the same tone as men. If we’re too nice, we are seen as too weak. If we’re too strong, we’re controlling. If we’re too direct, we’ve got an edge. If we defend ourselves, we’re hysterical.

It goes on and on.  Two nights ago, I dined with senior executive women working for three of America’s largest corporations. We basically had the same exact conversation I’d had with those women who’d gone to Mexico with me. These successful women still feel they are maneuvering through that tiny zone of operation. One woman told me about receiving an e-mail that had accidentally been copied to her by a vender who called her “crazy” and complained that she was being overbearing trying to get them to deliver what they were contracted to deliver.

 That made me sad. I’d seen an e-mail like that written about me about a dozen years ago. And then there was the office Christmas party where a drunken employee in the buffet line blurted, “I hear you are a real bitch.”  I was crushed. I thought to myself, “I am not a bitch. I am a big marshmallow with real feelings that hurt. I’m just trying to do a good job. Don’t you get that?”

I didn’t understand that strong, bold women give off an energy that threatens insecure people. We have to watch every word so we aren’t misinterpreted.  So, if you’re wondering what to do to be more effective, try these steps:  

1. If you are angry about something, try to wait a day to say or write anything. Cool down as much as you can.
2. Always re-read every bit of your correspondence out loud, and do it in the shrillest, bitchiest tone of voice possible – because that may well be the way it is interpreted.
3. Do not immediately defend yourself if you are told you have messed up. You have every right to make your point, but do it with a plan and don’t do it when you are emotional.
4. Avoid crying. We are hormonal beings and it will happen. But, try to avoid it. When you feel it coming, go to the bathroom, go get a drink of water or do something else to stop or hide the tears.
5. Understand that your job is not to win every battle, but rather, to survive to fight another day.
6. Ask others what they think you are communicating and make sure it’s a match.
7. If others are gossiping about you, do not be afraid to confront it and say, “I would much rather we talk directly and keep our communication open.”
8. Build a strong, powerful support group around you to validate you when others are tearing you down.

What I want to know is, who changed the rules? I had a lot of time to think about this as I sat in a Tampa courtroom waiting for the judge to consider my case.

Granted, I was guilty. I’d been going 68 in a 50 mph zone, but to my credit, I truly didn’t know I was speeding. I was driving in an unfamiliar area on a six-lane highway in a rural area that was virtually empty on a Saturday afternoon. I assumed the limit was “fast.” Apparently, not that fast.

In my rear-view mirror, I saw a late model, brown Mustang with a Harley Davidson plate on the front speeding up behind me. What happened next was something out of a science fiction movie.  That Mustang morphed into a light-flashing, no-mercy-whatsoever Florida trooper.

You know what a stop sign looks like, so you know when to stop. You know what a yield sign looks like, so you know when to yield. You know what a state trooper looks like and you know when to slow down and pretend you are going the speed limit. How unfair it is that the state I love would betray me by using decoy cars to trap me, a loyal taxpayer. Shouldn’t we have a fighting chance, especially since the cost of tickets have skyrocketed as the state seeks more sources of revenue?

I asked the trooper to consider my good driving record and he said, “I don’t even look it up. You can go to court and try and work it out there.” I live more than an hour away, but the ticket was in excess of $300 and I was ticked off that I’d gotten it. I had visions of standing up and protesting on behalf of all speeders betrayed by decoy troopers, but I sold those principles right out when the the judge told us that, if we had no tickets in the previous two years, he’d withhold adjudication, erase the points, make sure the insurance company didn’t find out and reduce the fine. Just for showing up.

Sold.

I have two brothers: One is blood, the other one should have been. My blood brother has been a source of great heartache, but my “chosen” brother has brought me as much love, security and friendship as any blood brother could have offered. I’m so blessed.

Five years ago, when I moved to Clearwater, Fla., I met Doug and Teri Swift at a neighborhood Fourth of July party. When Doug mentioned he had a subscription to Star magazine, I knew we were destined to be friends. Just like him, I have an insatiable appetite for Hollywood gossip. So there. Now you know what intellectuals we are.

I call Doug my “brother” because, if I sent God a list of what I would want in a brother, it would  be him. He watches out for me. He’s always got some kind of adventure for us. We never run out of things to talk about. It’s the most amazing friendship –  one that extends to his wife, Terri, who is a sister to me. It is hard to explain what she has come to mean to me, except I keep thinking of the word, “home.” She’s a safe place. She’s the thoughtful, reasonable one in our bunch. She’s an absolute, true friend.

Family sometimes comes to us in passing, rather than by birth. I could sit here and lament the disappointments from my real sibling relationship, but all I have to do is look to Doug and Teri and realize that God sent me the best brother and sister in the world — even though we aren’t technically related. There is nothing better than double dating with the Swifts.

Last year, I completely renovated the pool, deck and landscaping in my back yard. Two days after the deck was down, I woke up to a half-empty pool. It was leaking, and one end of the deck had to be ripped up so the pool could be mended. I was crushed. The project had already consumed way more time and cash than I’d been told to expect. The men who repaired the pool left the bricks from the north end of the deck in piles. My office is right next to the pool and an hour later, while I was working, I heard tapping out back. I turned around and saw Doug putting the deck back together for me. He knew how stressed I was and just stepped in to help. It made me cry.

Then there was the day I turned around and looked in the pool, only to see Dougie floating in the lounger with his People magazine.

Teri is a great listener who has great advice. She hears my heart, whether the issue is relationships or work or whatever happens in the news. She gets me.

Every time I get an electrician or a plumber, Doug comes over to see what’s going on and make sure nobody rips me off. The morning after I closed on an investment home last year, I showed up to begin the renovations and found Dougie had beat me to the site, already fixing things. When I bought a pontoon boat and couldn’t get it on the trailer, he got it on the trailer.  When the water department realized my sprinkler system was hooked up wrong, guess who fixed the problem before I even asked for help?

The cool thing about Teri is that we get to check back in with her and report on our latest shenanigans. I love when she rolls her eyes or goes, “Oh, God.”

The point of this is that so many of us have difficult family relationships that cause us great pain. I am lucky because I have the most incredible, loving, devoted parents in the world. But, there is that brother… And while I could go into a loop wondering why that relationship is so tortured, I don’t anymore. Maybe my “real” brother was put in my life to help me learn that I am part of a much larger family, and that gives my life a richness and dimension that is far more real than anything I ever hoped to have.

I have a friend who is on the brink of losing everything. Her home. Her savings. Her retirement…

It isn’t pretty. She says it’s a matter of weeks before she bottoms out.

This year, we are learning to redefine “bottoming out.” I have had several friends give up their homes, spend down their savings and drain their retirement funds.  On paper, they have nothing. But, they are showing a resilience that is profound. They are finding out what they are made of, and counting on support from people who love them. As bad as things get, they still hang in there to fight another day. At some point, the days do get easier.

We’ve learned so much about loss and sacrifice this year, particularly when it comes to a concept like “security.” Most people deluded themselves into thinking their secure jobs meant secure futures, but their jobs were not secure. The only thing any of us can really count on is our own resilience. Let go of the things that don’t matter and build your own security once more. There is security in the knowledge that, the less you have, the less you have to fight to protect. You can downsize yourself out of a lot of headaches.

Sure, the future is uncertain — but, it always was. Just get up every day and have faith. It’ll all work out.

I spent last week on the legendary cycling adventure, the Bicycle Ride Across Georgia. I can’t tell you how much fun I had — but, I can show you.  The good was that I had seven days of hard cycling. The bad was eight nights of sleeping in a tent. That may have been easy in my early 30s, but in my 40s? I was ready for my bed about halfway through it. Anyhow, enjoy these photos. And, if you cycle, check out this great trip!

I can’t count the times I have thanked the universe for getting me out of journalism before the newspaper industry went to hell. I have so many great memories and it was a part of my life that had a good beginning, middle and end. I don’t know how I would feel if a lifetime of effort added up to the difficulties my former co-workers are now experiencing.

I’ve already written about the fact that the newspaper where I worked for eight years died a terrible death in late February. One of my friends sent an e-mail updating me on what my former colleagues are doing on the rebound. It’s sad, but it is a testament to resilience.

download brother bear online The former managing editor is going back to school to get a master’s in public health. The former city editor is taking classes to become a phlebotomist. An unbelievably talented photographer is cooking at a Panda Express. Some are writing or editing free-lance. A Pulitzer-prize winning photographer is working on a landscaping crew for the city. Others are trying to find something to do.

I wonder if they are bitter or hopeful.

I started reporting for my local paper when I was 15 years old. It was the only thing I’d ever wanted to do. It was a business that demanded passion and originality and commitment. It was so much fun when it was fun. Later on, I knew it wasn’t enough for me anymore. I wrote my last news story for U.S. News and World Report in 2003 — and that was only because my editor pleaded with me to go out there one more time. I haven’t written a story since, and have never missed it. Not at all.

ideal husband an dvdrip But, I made the decision to get out. These people were forced out — and many of them wanted to continue doing that kind of work. But, there’s no job market for them. It’s gone. So, this is what’s left. And, it is sad.

One of my closest friends is a home renovation craftsman whose work is his art. He’s incredible. His tile jobs are gorgeous. So, he’s always been busy. One job led to another, then another, and another — until now. I knew the reality of today’s economy the day he mentioned he’d just finished watching Tyra.

He’s having to do something that many of the most successful people in their fields have not had to do for years. He’s got to market himself.

His stream of business was so dependable that he has never even had a business card. Now, he needs business cards. He needs flyers. He needs a website. He took it for granted that the good times would not end, so he doesn’t have a single picture of the magnificent rennovations he’s done. Now, he’s got to go back to his clients and ask to take some photos. But, he is going to do it. He knows that he has got to push himself back into the game because, if he waits for business to come to him, he’s going to continue waiting around and watching Tyra.

This is a lesson that millions of Americans are learning today. The things that used to work aren’t working anymore. You’ve got to sell yourself and prove yourself all over again. While that is very unsettling, it is at least comforting to know that you can climb out of stagnation by taking action. If your work used to sell itself, imagine what you will be able to accomplish if you push hard to sell it. Just figure out how and where to market yourself, then push through your inertia. Just do something every day to get started, then let your business fly.

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It sure beats staying home and watching Tyra.

I’ve been on the road touring with my book. I will be speaking at the Florida Conference for Women and will update you all when I get back.

download children of dune online secret life of bees the dvd download I’ll be off for a couple of days, travelling to The Keys to do research for my next novel. Have a great week!

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