The Cost of Being the First: Why Representation Without Support Isn’t Enough

We celebrate the “firsts” a lot.

The first woman on a board. The first woman of color to raise a certain amount of funding. The first in her family to graduate, start a company, or run a team.

And while those milestones matter — deeply — we don’t talk nearly enough about what it actually costs to be the first.

We don’t talk about the pressure. The loneliness. The silence after the applause.

We don’t talk about what it’s like to finally get the opportunity you’ve worked so hard for, only to realize that no one ever prepared the space for your presence. That you now have to succeed while also explaining your value, justifying your decisions, and trying to prove that others like you deserve to be here too.

That’s the part we skip in the glossy headlines.

Because representation is important. It opens doors. It signals what’s possible.

But representation without support is a set-up. It often leaves women — especially those from underrepresented or underestimated backgrounds — to figure it out alone, under a microscope, without a safety net.

It’s not enough to simply “make space at the table” if we’re not also equipping women with the resources, mentorship, and infrastructure to thrive once they get there. Too often, they’re handed a seat and expected to perform perfection without ever being given the context, access, or margin for error their peers are afforded.

Being the first often means carrying the weight of the many.

It means navigating systems that weren’t built with you in mind.

It means translating your ideas, adjusting your tone, self-editing in rooms where no one else looks or sounds like you.

It means holding your voice steady even when your inner critic is loud and the room is quiet.

It means that failure doesn’t just feel personal — it feels historic.

That’s why when we talk about equity in entrepreneurship, leadership, or education, we can’t stop at visibility.

We need capacity-building. We need real mentorship. We need to stop romanticizing resilience and start funding stability.

We need to normalize the learning curve, give space for mistakes, and stop measuring success by how well someone can perform under pressure.

The women who are “the first” aren’t just fighting for their own success.

They’re often fighting to prove that their existence in that space wasn’t a fluke. That they deserve to be there. That others like them can and should follow.

So if you’re working in spaces that talk about diversity, inclusion, or empowerment — ask yourself: are we offering representation, or are we building real support? Are we applauding individual success stories while leaving others to figure it out alone? Are we measuring impact by who we invite in, or how we help them stay?

Because making space is not the end goal.

Making sure that space is safe, supported, and sustainable — that’s the real work.

And it’s the kind of work I hope more of us are willing to do.

Love, J