Walking into a boardroom as a Black woman is often more than just stepping into a meeting it’s stepping into a performance you didn’t audition for. Before you speak a word, judgments have already been formed. Your presence is being measured against expectations you didn’t set.
And without realising it, many of us adapt. We switch, we shape-shift, we adjust. Not because we lack
strength, but because we’ve learned that adaptation is often the only way to be heard.
This adaptation what many call code-switching I write about under chapter 2 of my book under the 1st Pillar of Authenticity, can be strategic. It can help you navigate complex environments, gain access, build credibility, and protect your peace in spaces that were never designed with you in mind. But here’s the truth no one likes to talk about: there is an emotional cost to constantly
adapting.
The Weight of Constant Adjustment
Every time you adjust your tone to sound “less threatening,” or change your language so your ideas land more gently, you’re carrying a silent burden. It’s the weight of negotiating your identity in real time. Over and over.
Many of us walk out of those rooms feeling drained, not because of the work itself, but because of the effort it took just to exist in that space. That exhaustion isn’t a lack of resilience, it’s the invisible tax that comes with being “the only one” or “one of a few” in the room.
This is where the line between surviving and thriving begins to blur. You can be excelling in your work, leading initiatives, breaking barriers, and still be emotionally depleted from constantly managing how you’re perceived.
The Hidden Cost: Identity Erosion
Code-switching, at its core, is a survival strategy. But survival has limits. Over time, constant adaptation can chip away at your sense of self. You begin to question which version of you is real, the one inside the room or the one outside of it.
I know this feeling well. I’ve walked into rooms where I had to calculate not just what I would say, but how I would say it. I’ve second-guessed my tone, my hair, my expressions, all before I opened my mouth. And while the strategy worked in getting me heard, it often left me feeling like I’d left pieces of myself at the door.This is the danger. The danger isn’t in the act of adapting, it’s in becoming trapped in the performance.
Survival is Not the Goal
Let’s be clear, survival is necessary, but it is not the goal. Thriving means being able to operate in those spaces with strength, strategy, and self-intact. It’s learning to use adaptation as a tool, not a mask. The difference is subtle but powerful. Surviving is walking into the room hoping to be accepted. Thriving is walking into the room knowing you belong, regardless of their perception.
Building Inner Grounding
Thriving begins with how you ground yourself before and after you step into those spaces. I’ve learned to prepare not only my work, but my mindset. I remind myself that I bring value, my voice, my culture, my perspective, my excellence. Their bias is not my burden to carry.
When I leave those rooms, I go back to my anchors: the communities, sisterhood, and rituals that remind me who I am. Because if the boardroom is where I have to perform, then my safe spaces are where I get to exhale. This balance is essential. It’s how you keep your identity intact.
Sisterhood as Sanctuary
Sisterhood plays a powerful role in this journey. There’s something grounding about being in spaces where you don’t have to translate yourself, where your presence isn’t questioned, it’s celebrated.
I’ve had women in my life who looked me in the eye and reminded me of my worth when those rooms made me doubt it. Sisterhood isn’t just emotional support, it’s a strategy for survival and thriving. It’s where we strip away the mask, breathe, and remember why we walk into those spaces in the first place.
From Reaction to Intention
For many of us, adapting has become second nature. We react without even thinking about it. But thriving means moving from reaction to intention, my 3rd Pillar Intentionality, It means asking yourself:
- “Am I adjusting to communicate clearly, or am I shrinking to make others comfortable?”
- “Am I protecting myself, or am I erasing myself?”
- “Is this strategy serving me, or slowly silencing me?”
These questions create space for agency. And agency is what allows you to show up as your full self, even in environments that try to reduce you.
The Power of Unapologetic Presence
Standing in your power doesn’t mean ignoring reality. It means refusing to be defined by it. It’s not about never code-switching again; it’s about ensuring the switch doesn’t own you.
When you stand in your authenticity, even in a space that tries to shrink you, something shifts. You stop negotiating your worth. You stop carrying the burden of their bias as if it’s yours to fix. And you start leading, not just surviving.
Final Reflection
Thriving in the boardroom as a Black woman requires more than skill. It requires clarity, strategy, and courage. It’s knowing when to adapt and when to stand firm. It’s holding onto yourself even when the room tries to chip away at you.
“The cost of survival is too high when it costs you yourself.”
English