Rearview Mirror is a series born from age, clarity, and the courage to finally say the quiet parts out loud. It’s about looking back not to reopen old wounds, but to understand them. It’s about revisiting the places, people, and moments that shaped us – both the ones that lifted us and the ones that nearly undid us.
These essays are a way of honoring the woman I was, the woman I am, and the generation of women who came of age in workplaces that demanded our silence, our stamina, and our smiles.
With time, the stories settle differently. The meaning sharpens. And what once felt blurry or confusing finally reveals itself in full color. This is where the truths live. This is where we begin.
The Magic World of the Agency
There was a time when the agency’s name carried real magic. In its heyday, this New York powerhouse was where you went to make a career, to learn from legends, to be part of something larger than yourself. And in many ways, I was lucky. I spent a decade inside its glass walls, and some of the friendships I formed there remain among the strongest and most sacred of my life.
The early pioneers of the firm had been considered trailblazers – one of the first to recognize women in an industry ruled almost exclusively by men. That was the story everyone loved to tell. And like all stories told often enough, parts of it were true.
But not all of it.
The Reality Was Different
Looking back with clearer eyes, I can see that my experience – like so many women of my generation – was a study in contradictions. The place could feel exhilarating and alive, and in the same breath, it could crush you. The sexism wasn’t subtle; it lived in the hallways, in the meeting rooms, in the unspoken rules that shaped who mattered and who didn’t.
Age and Looks Built You Up and Brought You Down
Women of a certain age were treated like background characters – polite nods, occasional praise, but kept at arm’s length. Younger women, especially those who fit neatly into the agency’s aesthetic expectations, were fawned over regardless of skill. Their mistakes were forgiven, their shortcomings overlooked, their ambition applauded. The rest of us were expected to be grateful for whatever scraps of recognition fell our way.
The executive floor told the real story. Not a single woman in true power. The few who had the résumé, the strength, the earned authority were dismissed, mocked, sometimes openly insulted. I remember hearing them being called names – the kind of words whispered with a smirk but meant to wound. Yet these were the women we learned from. These were the women who kept the place running.
Women Suffered Quietly
As for the rest of us? We were young enough to be intimidated and trained well enough to stay quiet. Human Resources was not a refuge. Filing a complaint meant giving the alleged harasser a heads-up – confidentiality was a myth. Instead of protection, we were often met with suspicion or thinly veiled annoyance. And once you complained, your career became collateral damage.
Suddenly, you were “difficult,” “emotional,” or “not a team player.” You learned very quickly that surviving meant turning the other cheek, lowering your eyes, and working twice as hard for half the credit.
I watched talented, outspoken, principled women – women who dared to demand respect – be labeled “bitches,” often right to their faces. Meanwhile, powerful men who openly harassed women were rewarded with backslaps and bonuses. When their behavior finally caught up with them and lawsuits loomed, they didn’t fall. They drifted away on soft landings, citing the need to “spend more time with family.” Within months, they were scooped up by rival agencies for astonishing salaries. A clean slate. A fresh start. The freedom only men in power were granted.
At the time, we didn’t have language for what we were surviving. We only knew how it felt: heavy, unfair, demoralizing. But with distance – and hindsight – I can finally name it. And naming it is its own kind of liberation.
This is the beginning of the story. One I’m finally ready to tell.
Standing on the Other Side
What I understand now, standing on the other side of those years, is that my generation laid the groundwork – brick by bruised brick – for the privileges women in the industry rightfully claim today. We didn’t have the vocabulary, the protections, or the solidarity that exist now, but we had something else: persistence.
We showed up. We did the work. We absorbed the blows, challenged the worst of it when we could, and quietly refused to disappear. And though we may not have seen the payoff in real time, our endurance helped shape a world where young women no longer have to choose between their dignity and their careers. I salute every woman today who speaks up, who demands better, who names what we could only hint at. They are the proof that our struggles were not in vain.
The Story I See in the Rearview Mirror
And now, as an older woman looking back – not with regret, but with a clearer, kinder lens – I can finally see the fuller picture. Age gives you a strange kind of vision. It helps you realize that the stories we once carried with shame or confusion were never personal failings; they were cultural fault lines. What we endured shaped us, sharpened us, and, yes, sometimes scarred us. But those same experiences also anchored our resilience and influenced the trajectory of our careers in ways both painful and powerful.
With distance, the narrative changes. The hurt softens, the meaning deepens, and the once-familiar ache becomes a marker of how far we’ve come – not just as individuals, but as a generation of women who did the best we could with what we had. In the rearview mirror, the truth comes into focus: we were not weak for staying, and we were not foolish for believing we could make a change. We were the quiet architects of a better future.
This is the perspective time offers. And this is the story I’m finally ready to tell – not just for myself, but for every woman who lived it, survived it, and helped carve a different path for those who followed.
Questions to Ponder:
What was your career environment as a young woman? Who were your role models? What do you think has changed in the corporate world of today and how did you contribute to that change?
