Why Do We Ask Women to Choose Between Strength and Tenderness?
When a woman leads with strength, she’s called cold.
When she leads with empathy, she’s called soft.
If she tries to hold both? She’s called confusing.
I’ve heard all three.
As a Latina Artistic Director of a professional ballet company—and a mother of three—I’ve spent the last two decades navigating this impossible triangle. I lead dancers through long rehearsal days, direct full-length productions, make hard financial calls, and coach young artists through joy, grief, and identity. And at nearly every turn, someone has asked me to pick a lane:
“Be more nurturing.”
“Be more assertive.”
“Don’t let them see you sweat.”
“Don’t take it so personally.”
But I’ve learned that leadership isn’t a performance. It’s presence. And real presence requires both backbone and heart.
“The false binary we’ve placed on women leaders—choose power or kindness, vision or vulnerability—isn’t just outdated. It’s corrosive. “
The false binary we’ve placed on women leaders—choose power or kindness, vision or vulnerability—isn’t just outdated. It’s corrosive. It trains women to filter their instincts through fear: Will I be taken seriously if I say this? Will I be dismissed if I feel this? It trains audiences to tolerate leadership only when it’s palatable. It forces us to compartmentalize what we do best.
But when I look at the dancers I train, I see something different. I see young women who are strong and sensitive. Fierce and compassionate. I see them rise, fall, apologize, fight, lead. And I refuse to tell them they must cut off half of who they are to become who the world thinks they should be.
This isn’t just a dance world problem—it’s a cultural one.
In her book Dare to Lead, Brené Brown writes, “Clear is kind. Unclear is unkind.” That applies just as much to power structures as it does to interpersonal relationships. When women are given vague permission to lead, but criticized for how they do it, we aren’t building equity—we’re building confusion. And we’re forcing women to lead through a filter of self-doubt instead of clarity.
Leadership rooted in character holds tension. It tells the truth with care. It leads with vision, and it listens when the room is heavy.
And it doesn’t apologize for being both strong and tender.
So no—I won’t choose.
I’ll lead as I am.
And if that makes people uncomfortable, maybe it’s the triangle—not the woman—that needs to change.