Who Does She Think She Is?

There’s a question I heard many times throughout my policing career. Sometimes whispered behind closed doors, sometimes stated outright, and once quite publicly, on the nightly news.

Years ago, I became the center of a controversy that had nothing to do with performance, capability, or integrity. The spark? My salary as a female police leader appeared too high for some people’s comfort.

Instead of examining what all executives were earning, mine was singled out. For context, I made the same as my male colleagues. My male boss made more. The men in similar roles across the region made more too. But none of that mattered.

There I was, photo, salary, and a live interview with someone who was “appalled” that I made that much. The message beneath the outrage felt familiar: Who does she think she is?

But that wasn’t the first time I’d heard it.

Before that news segment, and before the supportive message that would later change my perspective, the question surfaced in a different way.

A few years earlier, I had taken a risk and spoken up about gender and sexual harassment in the workplace. I believed it was time to start having more honest, open, and human conversations about what that actually looked like for women and men in policing. I organized off-site discussions where people could speak freely, without hierarchy in the room, without fear of retaliation, and without the pressure to minimize their experiences.

Those sessions made their way to senior leadership in the province and eventually across the country. And in the midst of the momentum, a senior male leader, someone who supported the initiative, pulled me aside to share that one of the most senior female police leaders in the province had reacted to the idea with two questions:

“Why does she even want to talk about this?” and “Who does she think she is?”

To learn that a woman in policing, someone who had climbed ladders before me and broken barriers I benefited from,  would dismiss or undermine my attempt to create space for others was a gut punch. It felt like a fog rolling in. I had been prepared for resistance from men who were uncomfortable with the topic. I had not been prepared for resistance from women.

Years later, during the salary controversy, a different retired senior female leader reached out. She had watched the news coverage and sent me a message that contained a quote I have carried ever since:

“Who does she think she is? … Apparently she’s someone who isn’t concerned with who you think she is.”

Two women. Two very senior leaders. Two completely different responses to the same question.

One used it to diminish, discourage, and maintain the status quo.

The other used it to liberate, encourage, and remind me that other people’s discomfort is not my responsibility.

Those two experiences taught me more than any leadership course ever could:

• Not everyone is going to get you.

• Not everyone is going to like you.

• Not everyone has an interest in understanding or supporting you.

• And you don’t have to care about any of that.

If someone wants to understand you, they will ask questions. If someone values your voice, they will make space for it. If someone is committed to growth, they will grow with you. Everyone else can keep their commentary.

Looking back, I can recall both women vividly. One pushed me down. One lifted me up. Both made me better.

If they had an issue with my compensation, my voice, or my presence, that was on them — not me.

And as for the question “Who does she think she is?” ….well, here is who I think I am:

• A woman who has an opinion

• A woman who stands up for what is right

• A woman who stands up for others

• A woman who accepts responsibility

• A woman who makes mistakes

• A woman who shares her experiences

• A woman who lifts and encourages others

• And a woman who is no longer concerned with who you think she is

I write more about this period and many others like it in my book Tightrope, because these moments weren’t isolated. They were themes woven through a career spent balancing duty, identity, leadership, and resilience in environments not built for women.

And if I could leave anyone with one final note: People who matter will find ways to understand you.

The rest can sit with their question.

“Who does she think she is?”