Why women tell better stories without men in the room.

It wasn’t planned.

I was brought in to run a storytelling workshop for eight people working in various leadership positions. Some were engineers, some were managers, and some were scientists.

When I got there, they were all women. I’d never done a workshop with all women.

And I’d say it was one of the best workshops…. ever.

I got home and knew I had to run women-only workshops more often. But I had to figure out why this one was so different.

The only words I could come up with at the time were “connected,” and, as corny as this sounds, “love.”

When the women left at the end of the day, they knew each other so much better than they did when they arrived. And some of these women already knew each other pretty well. 

One woman shared a harrowing story about a life-threatening illness she still deals with. One talked about a time she was disgusted by the actions of a stranger only to find out all of her assumptions were wrong - and she felt massive shame.

Another told a story about a time she was ostracized from her friend group for being too smart and how the pain still lingers today. Yet another talked about the circuitous path she took to land a prestigious job in a male-dominated field - after she was told she wasn’t smart enough.

But here’s the thing, these stories weren’t downers. In fact, they were the opposite.

They were impactful because they were so honest. They ended with messages that showed the indomitable spirit of women. They were the kind of stories that inspire us to keep going.

Women often bring a rich emotional intelligence to their stories. And when they do that - their teams follow. 

That’s because personal stories build trust and strengthen team connection. Employees feel safer to speak up, take risks, and be real themselves which leads to better collaboration and higher performance. 

Vulnerability signals that perfection isn’t the goal; growth is. In that honesty, defenses drop. Shared experiences surface. And suddenly, strangers feel like allies. 

It’s like we’re all in the same boat.

And in women-only storytelling workshops, something shifts. Voices that may have felt tentative in mixed spaces begin to rise. There’s less need to filter or perform. Women speak without the fear that vulnerability will be mistaken for weakness or their leadership will be questioned.

They discover they’re not alone in their experiences. That becomes fuel for stronger stories and bolder leadership. 

Thanks to the women-only group that allowed me to hear some of the best stories I’ve ever heard. 

I can’t wait to lead more workshops for women.

P.S.  I love the men in my workshops and often see the same sort of vulnerability there. Alas, it’s harder to convince some men that being open and honest is much better than pretending everything is going well, all of the time. Perhaps I should try some workshops with men only and see how they’d express

themselves without women in the room. Hmmm.