To Every Woman Who Has Ever Felt Like “The Only One”
- Margaret

- Jan 6
- 3 min read

Have you ever walked into a room and instantly realized you stand out in every possible way? Maybe you’re the only woman of color. The only one with an accent. The oldest in the group. The only one with advanced degrees. The only one balancing motherhood, ministry, leadership, or a business. The only one whose life story doesn’t match the people sitting beside you.
If that’s you, I see you — because I am you.
As I continue advancing my healthcare career, I often find myself in spaces where I am the only one who looks like me, sounds like me, or carries the unique blend of experiences I bring. And while this reality isn’t uncommon, it can be profoundly isolating. The healthcare field has long wrestled with diversity gaps, and moving through these environments can feel like walking a tightrope — balancing professionalism, excellence, and the quiet ache of being different… again. Even when people are kind and respectful, there are subtle moments — the glances, the unasked questions, the unspoken assumptions — that remind me of the barriers that still exist and the hurdles I must clear to prove my worth.
Maybe you’ve felt it too; in your workplace, your classroom, your community, your ministry, or any space where your identity sets you apart. The sense of being an outsider can show up in many ways: the lack of representation in leadership, the absence of mentors who understand your journey, or the pressure to work twice as hard just to be seen. It’s disheartening to look around and not see yourself reflected, creating an internal tug‑of‑war between wanting to belong and honoring the uniqueness that defines you. It’s a delicate balance that demands resilience, courage, and grace.
But here’s what I want you to remember: you are not alone. Many women across industries and communities carry this same experience, navigating spaces where they feel out of place while holding onto the strength of who they are.
Our differences are not burdens; they are sources of brilliance. They spark innovation, broaden perspectives, and open doors to conversations that would never happen without us. Every time we step into a room where we feel different, we bring a richness of insight that challenges norms and expands what is possible.
And as we continue to show up, we also carry the power to create change. By sharing our stories, advocating for inclusivity, and building bridges with others, both those who relate to our journey and those willing to learn; we help shape environments that don’t just tolerate diversity but celebrate it. Together, we can dismantle the invisible walls that separate us and cultivate spaces where belonging is not the exception but the expectation.

You are a woman with layers; culture, wisdom, age, faith, resilience, brilliance, and lived experience. And sometimes those layers make you the only one in the room who carries what you carry.
But being the only one doesn’t mean you don’t belong.
It means you bring something the room didn’t have until you walked in.
If you feel isolated, it doesn’t mean you’re weak — it means you’re human. And it’s okay to acknowledge that. It’s okay to wish for someone who understands your journey. It’s okay to long for connection on your level.
But don’t shrink. Don’t dim. Don’t apologize for your difference.
Your uniqueness is purposeful.
Your presence is impactful.
Your voice is necessary.
Your journey is valid.
Your story is powerful.
And even if no one else in the room looks like you, sounds like you, or shares your background, you still deserve to be there. You earned your seat. You carry grace for that space. And you are paving the way for the next woman who will walk in and breathe easier because you went first.
So, to every woman who feels like “the only one” — keep showing up. Keep standing tall. Keep being fully, beautifully, unapologetically you.
You don’t just stand out.
You stand strong.
I hope someone is encouraged & empowered today!
Thank you for reading.




Very empowering! thanks for sharing.