There’s a particular kind of silence that falls over a room when you’re the person who doesn’t quite fit. I’ve felt it many times throughout my career, perhaps most memorably when I was working as an executive secretary at a museum during a major Rembrandt exhibition in the early 1990s.

My story made it into a national newspaper, but not for the reasons one might hope. Despite doing the job well, I couldn’t secure a permanent position. The reason? The local council’s positive discrimination policies meant they couldn’t hire me unless they failed to find any qualified female candidates. I was being excluded specifically because I was male, despite having successfully co-ordinated international group visits on top of my regular EA duties supporting the museum’s director.

This wasn’t the first or last time I would find myself on the outside looking in. Being a gay and ginger has its own set of challenges. Add to that my journey from journalist to executive assistant and content designer, and back again as a trainer and coach. You might say I’ve made a career of navigating spaces where I’m not automatically welcomed.

But here’s what I’ve learned: being an outsider gives you vision others simply don’t have.

Out of place

I was reminded of this recently when Lucy Brazier, a respected voice in the EA community, shared her experience of feeling unwelcome in an airport business lounge. Four men in suits gave her the distinct impression she didn’t belong there in her comfortable travel clothes.

It was a small moment, but one that resonates with many professionals, particularly women, who regularly endure subtle signals suggesting they’re somehow out of place.

These experiences aren’t identical, of course. The barriers faced by women in business settings have deep historical roots and persistent structural reinforcement. But there’s a shared understanding in that moment of recognition, when you realise someone is questioning your right to occupy a professional space.

Unspoken power dynamics

Many EAs know this feeling intimately. You’re often neither fully part of the executive team nor grouped with other staff. You hold confidential information, but aren’t always included in strategic discussions. You’re expected to be invisible until needed, then instantly authoritative when called upon.

I wrote the national drink spiking advice and information service for Police.uk, the web portal used by 82% of police forces in England and Wales. It is a good example of my work developing trauma-informed content for government services.

Projects like this have taught me how essential it is to recognise these unspoken power dynamics. When someone feels excluded or diminished, their ability to engage effectively is compromised.

The same principle applies in executive support roles. An EA who feels perpetually like an outsider will struggle to bring their full capabilities to the table.

Stepping into management

Conversely, when you learn to embrace your outsider perspective, it becomes an unexpected strength.

Your ability to stand at the edges and look in means you notice things others miss. You develop exceptional skills in reading the room because you’ve had to navigate spaces that weren’t designed with you in mind. You become adept at creating psychological safety for others because you understand how it feels when that safety is absent.

I’ve seen too many development programmes urging EAs to become Chiefs of Staff when that’s not everyone’s ambition. There’s a presumption that evolution must mean stepping into management, rather than deepening mastery within a role you already value. This pressure creates yet another way for capable professionals to feel they’re somehow falling short.

The truth is, the most effective EAs I’ve known aren’t those who fit perfectly into expected patterns. They’re the ones who bring their whole selves to the role, including the perspectives gained from sometimes feeling like they don’t entirely belong.

Professional superpower

When I work with executive assistants today, I draw on my experience of navigating these boundaries. I understand how it feels to have your capabilities questioned because you don’t fit someone’s preconception of what a role should look like.

I know the exhaustion of constantly proving your right to be in a space. And I recognise the unique strength that comes from developing professional identity at the intersection of multiple worlds.

This is what makes trauma-informed approaches so valuable in professional development. It’s not about dwelling on difficulties but recognising how our experiences shape our perceptions and capabilities.

The sensitivity you develop as an outsider becomes a professional superpower when channelled effectively.

One of your greatest professional assets

So if you’ve ever felt that subtle chill of not quite belonging, know that you’re not alone. More importantly, recognise that your outsider perspective isn’t a limitation: it’s one of your greatest professional assets.

In a world rapidly transforming through technology and changing workplace dynamics, the ability to see from multiple angles is invaluable.

The future belongs not to those who fit perfectly into existing systems, but to those who can navigate between worlds, creating bridges where others see only boundaries.