On the surface, professionalism in tech appears to be a neutral concept. But in reality, it’s shaped by long-standing gendered expectations. The archetype of a “professional leader” still mirrors dominant male figures — assertive, visionary and often uncompromising. These traits are widely applauded in men, yet when embodied by women, they’re often misread as “too much” — too aggressive, too emotional, too ambitious.

As women, we’re expected to be both competent and endlessly accommodating — and that’s a difficult tightrope to walk. I’ve personally experienced the double standard. When I’m assertive, it can be viewed as threatening. When I speak gently, I risk being underestimated. It’s a lose-lose if we let others define our value by tone alone.



So no, professionalism isn’t neutral. But by naming the bias, we make space for change. The more we challenge the narrow definitions of what a leader “should” sound or look like, the more inclusive — and effective — our workplaces become.

In the beginning of my career, I muted myself — both literally and figuratively — to be seen as “professional.” I wore neutral colors, quieted my personality, and tried to take up as little space as possible. I thought invisibility would protect me, because it’s disheartening when you realize that your appearance or voice can sometimes overshadow your skills, especially in environments where dominant norms aren’t designed with you in mind.

But now, I choose visibility. I wear pink and purple not just because I like them, but because I refuse the idea that strength only comes in grey or navy. My voice is soft, and I own it. My presence is calm, and I lead with it.

I want women — especially those who look or sound like me — to know that they don’t have to edit themselves to be taken seriously. You can lead, thrive, and be fully you. And every time we show up unapologetically, we expand the definition of who belongs in tech.

Yes. But first, we need to untangle leadership from the gendered traits society assigns to it. Leadership isn’t about acting tougher, louder, or more dominant. It’s about vision, trust, and the ability to bring out the best in people.

I lead with empathy and clarity. I set expectations and hold people accountable, but I don’t rely on fear or pressure. I believe in creating environments where people feel seen and supported. That’s not soft — that’s strategy. And the results speak for themselves.

Some of the strongest leaders that I’ve known have led with kindness, patience, and belief. When someone believes in you before you believe in yourself, it unlocks something powerful. That’s the kind of leadership I carry forward — not imitation, but intention.

To me, leadership is about holding space — for people to grow, stumble, and succeed. It’s about trust, clarity, and presence. I was lucky to have mentors who led with grace, who gave me room to find my voice. That shaped my view of what true leadership is.

I don’t lead by pushing from the front. I lead by walking beside people. I don’t ask for perfection — I ask for presence and accountability. And I give trust first, because I believe that when people feel safe and seen, they will rise higher than you ever imagined. As such, my version of leadership might not always match tech’s traditional mold.

But I’ve come to understand that strength doesn’t have to roar. It can be quiet. Steady. Rooted in care.

Kindness and clarity can and should coexist. That’s how you build teams that don’t just deliver results, but grow together in the process. And that, to me, is success that lasts.

The tech industry, in many ways, offers more space for reinvention and gender diversity than traditional sectors bound by legacy norms. I’ve seen this first-hand in regions like the Middle East, where governments have placed women’s empowerment at the heart of their national agendas. As a result, more and more young women are choosing careers in tech — and we at Kaspersky witness this shift when our experts lecture at leading universities. The transformation is visible, measurable, and deeply inspiring.

But beyond external systems, there’s also the legacy we carry within ourselves — the messages passed down through family, culture, and society.

I come from a lineage of strong women. My grandmother, a mathematics teacher, raised three sons and fostered education as a value for all her grandchildren. Yet she also passed on ideas like “don’t speak unless asked” or “don’t draw attention to yourself.” These values, though rooted in care, can hold women back in today’s world of public visibility and professional assertiveness.

For me, learning to speak up, and trusting that my voice matters, has been one of the most important (and difficult) parts of my journey. True professionalism begins when we filter what we carry, honor what strengthens us, and release what no longer serves us. That’s how we move forward — not just as professionals, but as full, self-actualized individuals.

In most cases, the adjustments I make are guided by cultural context, something I navigate consciously in my global role as VP of Public Affairs. Whether it’s choosing a pantsuit instead of a dress in Saudi Arabia, waiting for a male counterpart to initiate a handshake in the Middle East, or opting for sneakers over heels at large expos to stay energized — it’s less about conforming, and more about connecting. These choices often reflect broader cultural values, and at times, gendered expectations that vary by region.

That said, some lessons I’ve learned go far beyond gender or geography. For example, when speaking publicly, I’ve learned to pause more — not because I doubt myself, but because intentional pacing helps my message land with greater clarity. Communicating with impact isn’t about changing who you are — it’s about understanding your audience and choosing how you show up.

Of course and they already are. I naturally lean toward a more direct, goal-oriented style and that’s authentically me. But I’ve also worked with male leaders who bring warmth, a relationship-focus, and an emotional intelligence — traits more traditionally coded as “feminine.”

It’s not about gendered categories — it’s about the strengths of the individual.

What matters most is building a team where different styles coexist, challenge, and empower each other. There is no singular formula for leadership. If it builds trust and drives results — it’s leadership.

To me, leadership is about realizing your potential despite the dominant script. It’s not defined by gender — it’s defined by the courage to act, to think independently, and to bring others with you. Leadership happens when you break inherited molds and write your own playbook — with clarity, with strategy, and with integrity.

Whether it aligns with expectations or challenges them — that’s less important than whether it creates space for others to grow, speak up, and thrive. And if it does, then it’s exactly the kind of leadership our industry needs more of.

While I believe that professionalism itself is neutral, I recognize that societal expectations and biases can influence how it’s perceived. Personally, I define professionalism as showing up with integrity, being open to feedback, lifting others up as you grow, and staying curious. These qualities have no gender. But we also can’t ignore the cultural coding that’s built into workplace norms, from how we speak, to how we dress and to how we express disagreement. Recognizing those layers is about awareness. And with awareness comes the power to change the narrative — and expand what the term ‘professional’ can look like.

As a woman in tech, I make conscious choices about how I present myself, but these choices are guided by a desire to be authentic and professional. When speaking, I strive to communicate with confidence and clarity, but I’m also mindful of my limitations and I never pretend to be an expert on something I’m not. I believe that integrity is essential to building trust and credibility, and I prioritize honesty and transparency in all my interactions.

In terms of my dress, I opt for attire that is professional, modest, and comfortable. I want to feel confident and focused on the conversation or presentation at hand, rather than being distracted by what I’m wearing. By being true to myself and dressing in a way that makes me feel confident and prepared, I can focus on sharing my ideas and expertise with others, and building meaningful relationships in the tech community.

I strongly believe that women don’t need to adopt traditionally masculine traits to lead effectively in tech. The core qualities of great leadership — confidence, empathy, clear communication, and a commitment to developing others — aren’t tied to any one gender. These are human skills that anyone can cultivate. When women lead by building meaningful relationships, creating a culture of growth, and showing up with integrity and authenticity, they not only succeed — they enrich the tech industry with perspectives and strengths that might otherwise go unseen.

For me, leadership means empowering others, nurturing meaningful relationships, and cultivating a culture where growth is constant and people feel seen. It’s about striking the balance between confidence and humility, supportiveness and a willingness to challenge, and authenticity and adaptability. Leadership isn’t defined by job titles or hierarchy; it’s defined by the impact you make on people and the progress you inspire in the organization. While traditional leadership models may still linger, I believe my approach reflects what modern leadership truly demands today: collaboration, empathy, and the courage to innovate together.

Professionalism is often framed as neutral, but in practice, it’s layered with unspoken gender expectations, especially for women in tech. In positions such as CEOs, founders, or even Prime Ministers, the default image is still overwhelmingly male, a reflection of deep-rooted cultural assumptions. The numbers speak for themselves: despite progress, women still hold less than 20% of senior leadership roles.

But I believe we’re in a time of real change. More inclusive leadership models are slowly beginning to take shape, and women are actively redefining what ‘professionalism’ looks like on their own terms, and that’s a powerful shift.

Women in tech are often navigating multiple roles, as a professional, caregiver, partner or leader. We learn to adapt without losing ourselves. Every choice I make, from how I speak in a meeting to how I “show up”, is about aligning with my values and the impact I want to make. It’s not about fitting in; it’s about showing up powerfully, in a way that feels true to who I am.

Without a doubt. Leadership is not defined by gender — it’s defined by vision, empathy, and the ability to empower others. Women bring invaluable perspectives to tech, and we don’t need to copy anyone to prove our worth. Some of the most powerful leaders I know lead with care, collaboration, and clarity — traits often undervalued in traditional models, but absolutely essential today.

Leadership, to me, is about being grounded, curious, and courageous. It’s about lifting others while continuing to evolve yourself. I value humility, integrity, and the willingness to keep learning.

Maybe that doesn’t always match the traditional “masculine” mold — but I’m not here to fit someone else’s image. I’m here to create space for others to thrive too. That’s the kind of leadership I believe in — and I live it every day.