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Expat journal

Return to being visible.

A few days ago, I came across this short film, and it surprised me. "So it's a problem that someone sees!"

The film tells two stories of economic violence. The second story is about a young woman with a job she loves, full of ideas and new projects. She’s about to marry a young man with a job he loves, full of ideas and with a new project: relocating to London. His company has promoted him with an all-inclusive offer: a car, a house, and an incredible salary. But she knows nothing about it. "You'll see, you'll like London," he reassures her. "You'll take care of the kids, and I'll take care of you."


Do you know how many women I've met over the years in the same situation as this young woman? So many.


But, unlike the protagonist, they already had children. A factor that made it impossible for them to say no. They found themselves in a new place, alone, facing countless obstacles to finding a new job, without a network, without knowing the language, without their financial independence.

Without having chosen it. Without a voice.


Why do you only interview women on your podcast?

My first guest was a woman. So was the second. But at the time, I thought it was a random choice. Then, when I looked for an "expert" in human resources, I wondered: is it possible there's no female expert? That question led me to reflect on my choice and to look around. How many "female experts" are interviewed on podcasts or on the radio? Very few. So much so that a movement arose a few years ago to address this gap, even in panels of all kinds. It's called #EqualPanel.

In my small way, I try to make a difference by featuring only women who are experts in their fields.

And, just to be clear, there are many of them.

"But aren’t you afraid that people will think that, since you’re a woman and only invite women, your audience or clients might end up being exclusively female?"

A question no one would ask a male speaker.

Knowledge, training, and field experience have no gender. Yet, it seems that the sex we belong to either enhances or penalizes our work.


Why does it matter? It matters because being represented means we exist and that being part of the process is possible.


It means having a voice.


Last week, I truly felt visible. A podcast fan invited me to breakfast because she wanted to meet me in person. "I've listened to every episode.""All 70???""Yes, yes."

On my way home, I thought about all the times I recorded with a fever or a sore throat just to publish the episode on time, the hours spent writing the script or editing the interview until I got a headache. I remembered the late-night recordings just to have some quiet.

I chose to relocate abroad thinking I knew what I was getting into. Over the years, I realized that giving up my financial independence had put me at a disadvantage. Rebuilding my career path took immense willpower and a lot of teamwork with my partner.


In the meantime, I found my voice again.

I'll leave you with a question: What are you doing to be visible and have a voice?

 

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