To the Woman Who's Both Soft and Strategic

Dearest tender hearted reader,

There’s a certain kind of woman who knows how to power-walk through the revolving doors of a glass building with her lip gloss intact, her inbox on fire, and her soul still somehow in one piece.

This letter is for her.

This letter is for you.

I want to start by saying, I see you. No, really. I see you, the way only another woman who’s cried in a disabled loo between back-to-back meetings could. The woman who tells herself she’s fine, she’s just “fixing her mascara,” while her heart takes one too many hits from being overlooked in rooms she works twice as hard to earn a seat in.

You are the woman who carries a notebook that’s prettier than her salary and a spine stronger than the men two ranks above her. And even still, you lead with warmth. You negotiate with a smile. You call people by their names and remember their birthdays. Strategic? Absolutely. Soft? Painfully so. And darling, that’s not a contradiction. That’s your superpower.

I remember once being pulled into a “quick chat” after a meeting (translation: emotional ambush), where a senior manager told me I was “too nice” to get promoted. Apparently, I didn’t “cut deep enough” when challenging people’s ideas. I was advised, genuinely, to be more ruthless. It was said in that painfully British way, with a laugh that softens the blow while still slicing through your sense of self-worth. I smiled politely, said “Thanks, I’ll think about that,” then went to the loo and stared into the mirror until I remembered who the hell I was.

Here’s the thing: we’ve been sold the lie that kindness is weakness. That being warm somehow discredits our competence. That unless we harden, we’ll be passed over. But let me tell you this: the woman who can disarm an entire boardroom with a look and a well-timed pause without raising her voice? That’s the woman who wins long-term.

You don’t need to become a shark to swim in deep waters. You just need to know your depths.

I know it’s exhausting. Some days, you’re scrolling LinkedIn like it’s Tinder, swiping past job descriptions wondering if any of them won’t demand your soul in exchange for a 9am Teams call and a sandwich you’ll eat in three bites between deadlines. Other days, you’re dressing for war (read: meetings with passive-aggressive colleagues), wearing soft pastels with the strategic precision of a diplomat. You're not just trying to survive your twenties, you’re trying to thrive with grace.

And grace, my love, is a choice you keep making.

So to the woman who knows the price of every boundary she enforces and the value of every apology she doesn’t give, keep going. Keep being the one who proofreads the reports and the group chat. Who knows how to write a killer pitch deck, but still brings croissants on Mondays because everyone’s spirits are hanging on by a thread.

Keep being soft. Keep being strategic. Keep choosing not to compromise one for the other.

And next time someone mistakes your softness for naivety, or your warmth for weakness, let them. That’s not your burden to correct. You’ve got bigger things to build. And you will, brick by gentle, calculated brick.

With lipstick smudged from takeaway coffee, but vision clear as ever.

With ink-stained fingers and a heart half-stitched,

Calliope Orford