Queen Bee Syndrome & Me: Navigating internalised misogyny

A Bit of History In 2017 I began studying Computer Science at my local university. I was only a few weeks into my studies when I realised that there was a severe gender imbalance in the industry, and that my path throughout a career in STEM would differ greatly to my male counterparts. Little things chipped away at my confidence, like being told I was in the wrong lecture hall, or that I should only work on the documentation element in a group coding project. All these (likely un-conscious) microaggressions made me question whether or not I belonged in the field. When the actions and biases of enough people communicate that you don’t belong somewhere, you begin to believe it too. Despite the casual relationship I developed with imposter syndrome, I remained proud to be a representative of young women in tech, and relished in any opportunity I had to “prove myself”. As much as it initially unsettled me, I became accustomed to being one of two or three female students in a classroom. I felt special, and, at times, enjoyed standing out. My naturally competitive spirit motivated me to outperform my peers at university, and I relished in the times I achieved stronger grades than the few misogynistic classmates that made me feel unsafe and unwelcome. “Queen Bee” Guilt One morning, in my penultimate year of study, my friends and I were searching for a free computer lab when we walked into a class where ~50% of the students were women. My friends and I stood astonished, with one male colleague remarking “wow, it’s so awesome to see so many females taking up IT degrees this semester”. It really was great to see, especially after several years of feeling disheartened by classrooms void of any feminine energy. Seeing a room packed with enthusiastic future female engineers should have delighted me. But instead, I felt tense, unnerved and intimidated - closely followed by deep shame for the instinctual reaction. For months I kept this close to my chest, to avoid exposing myself as the toxic woman I surely was. Wasn’t this exactly what I had been advocating for? All these years of campaigning to have more women involved in STEM and the moment I see these goals physically manifested, I have a selfish desire to prove myself as the smartest in the room. I’d grown accustomed to being the only woman applying for a scholarship, or attending a class. So deep down I felt threatened and scared that I was no longer special. When I confided in my friend, Grace, about this, she explained to me that what I might be feeling is a bit of “Queen Bee Syndrome”. I felt embarrassment but also relief that this reaction didn’t make me a bad person or bad feminist, but was rather a common compulsion felt by women in male dominated industries. After debriefing with Grace, I decided to look more into what Queen Bee Syndrome was. What is Queen B Syndrome? Queen Bee syndrome gets its name after, not surprisingly, bees. There can only be one Queen in a hive, and if there are ever more than one they will fight to the death. A Queen bee will go as far as stinging unborn Queens to eliminate any potential rivals. Thankfully the term “Queen Bee Syndrome” involves far less violence (phew). It rather refers to someone who acts hostile towards other women in their workplace because of a subconscious fear that they may surpass or outperform them in their role. This type of behaviour occasionally appears in the STEM industry, where there are hardly any women (~28% in 2020 according to Australian STEM Equity Monitor), so the likelihood of the few in a company feeling pitted against each other is higher. This is something that also happens between female celebrities - think Olivia Rodrigo & Sabrina Carpenter, Kim Cattrall & Sarah Jessica Parker. Rumours of a rift seem to appear before there is any genuine animosity between these stars. Our society loves to pit women against each other, whether for clickbait or for the sake of gossip and drama. According to a Forbes article by Kim Elsesser, it can be a way that some women cope with the gender discrimination they’ve faced in their own career. After working so hard and facing so many barriers to get where they are, women in senior positions could interpret a first year student's enthusiasm and eagerness to learn as someone who has had it easier than them - who hasn’t had to fight for what they had to. Perhaps even jealous that they won’t have to go through the same level of bias and discrimination they did. That just sounds like being competitive. What’s wrong with that? Healthy competition between two friends isn’t a bad thing. However, an unsolicited competition where two students are pitted against each other solely based on their common gender, is toxic. Feeling motivated to outperform your peers is fine, as long as you aren’t engaging in behaviours that put other people down or inhibit their performance. It is important not to feel guilty if these subc

Mar 22, 2025 - 06:59
 0
Queen Bee Syndrome & Me: Navigating internalised misogyny

A Bit of History

In 2017 I began studying Computer Science at my local university. I was only a few weeks into my studies when I realised that there was a severe gender imbalance in the industry, and that my path throughout a career in STEM would differ greatly to my male counterparts. Little things chipped away at my confidence, like being told I was in the wrong lecture hall, or that I should only work on the documentation element in a group coding project. All these (likely un-conscious) microaggressions made me question whether or not I belonged in the field. When the actions and biases of enough people communicate that you don’t belong somewhere, you begin to believe it too. Despite the casual relationship I developed with imposter syndrome, I remained proud to be a representative of young women in tech, and relished in any opportunity I had to “prove myself”.

As much as it initially unsettled me, I became accustomed to being one of two or three female students in a classroom. I felt special, and, at times, enjoyed standing out. My naturally competitive spirit motivated me to outperform my peers at university, and I relished in the times I achieved stronger grades than the few misogynistic classmates that made me feel unsafe and unwelcome.

“Queen Bee” Guilt

One morning, in my penultimate year of study, my friends and I were searching for a free computer lab when we walked into a class where ~50% of the students were women. My friends and I stood astonished, with one male colleague remarking “wow, it’s so awesome to see so many females taking up IT degrees this semester”.

It really was great to see, especially after several years of feeling disheartened by classrooms void of any feminine energy. Seeing a room packed with enthusiastic future female engineers should have delighted me. But instead, I felt tense, unnerved and intimidated - closely followed by deep shame for the instinctual reaction.

For months I kept this close to my chest, to avoid exposing myself as the toxic woman I surely was. Wasn’t this exactly what I had been advocating for? All these years of campaigning to have more women involved in STEM and the moment I see these goals physically manifested, I have a selfish desire to prove myself as the smartest in the room. I’d grown accustomed to being the only woman applying for a scholarship, or attending a class. So deep down I felt threatened and scared that I was no longer special.

When I confided in my friend, Grace, about this, she explained to me that what I might be feeling is a bit of “Queen Bee Syndrome”. I felt embarrassment but also relief that this reaction didn’t make me a bad person or bad feminist, but was rather a common compulsion felt by women in male dominated industries. After debriefing with Grace, I decided to look more into what Queen Bee Syndrome was.

What is Queen B Syndrome?

Queen Bee syndrome gets its name after, not surprisingly, bees. There can only be one Queen in a hive, and if there are ever more than one they will fight to the death. A Queen bee will go as far as stinging unborn Queens to eliminate any potential rivals. Thankfully the term “Queen Bee Syndrome” involves far less violence (phew). It rather refers to someone who acts hostile towards other women in their workplace because of a subconscious fear that they may surpass or outperform them in their role. This type of behaviour occasionally appears in the STEM industry, where there are hardly any women (~28% in 2020 according to Australian STEM Equity Monitor), so the likelihood of the few in a company feeling pitted against each other is higher.

This is something that also happens between female celebrities - think Olivia Rodrigo & Sabrina Carpenter, Kim Cattrall & Sarah Jessica Parker. Rumours of a rift seem to appear before there is any genuine animosity between these stars. Our society loves to pit women against each other, whether for clickbait or for the sake of gossip and drama.

According to a Forbes article by Kim Elsesser, it can be a way that some women cope with the gender discrimination they’ve faced in their own career. After working so hard and facing so many barriers to get where they are, women in senior positions could interpret a first year student's enthusiasm and eagerness to learn as someone who has had it easier than them - who hasn’t had to fight for what they had to. Perhaps even jealous that they won’t have to go through the same level of bias and discrimination they did.

That just sounds like being competitive. What’s wrong with that?

Healthy competition between two friends isn’t a bad thing. However, an unsolicited competition where two students are pitted against each other solely based on their common gender, is toxic. Feeling motivated to outperform your peers is fine, as long as you aren’t engaging in behaviours that put other people down or inhibit their performance.

It is important not to feel guilty if these subconscious feelings resonate with you. We work in freezing offices with beer taps in kitchens and lunchtime conversations on hardware engineering and League of Legends. This industry was designed to suit men, and this Queen Bee phenomenon is a consequence of the discrimination and gender imbalance, not something created by women. The only way to change that is to continue striving for greater gender equity.

I think I might be a Queen Bee or I know someone who is. What can I do about it?

Again, I want to make it clear that I am not interested in blaming specific people for this phenomena, especially not women.

Women experience enough barriers as it is - things that we have limited control over. And as much as the onus of this issue is not on women, there are some things we can do to reclaim control. By acknowledging and reflecting on any Queen Bee feelings we’ve had, and safely sharing them with other people, we can raise awareness and encourage others to hold a mirror to their own thoughts, feelings and past behaviours. That way, we can reflect and stop these feelings in their tracks before we act on them in the future.

Questions I like to ask myself in those moments are:

  • What is the goal of this interaction? What do I want to achieve?
  • Are my words and actions helpful or a hindrance?
  • If the roles were reversed, how would I want this interaction to go?
  • Am I acting in kindness?

One thing I discovered early in my studies is that the community of women in STEM is welcoming and strong. I have felt incredibly supported by various mentors and leaders from the beginning. We need to continue looking out for each other and offering assistance and knowledge where we can.

When we feel threatened it is important to acknowledge that feeling, recognise its source and move past it to ensure we aren’t hurting people or modeling Queen Bee behaviour for others. These feelings don’t make us bad people, or bad feminists. It is the consequences of the environment we are in - an environment that will only change if we are vulnerable, honest and refuse to be divided.

Sources

https://www.forbes.com/sites/kimelsesser/2020/08/31/queen-bees-still-exist-but-its-not-the-women-we-need-to-fix/?sh=232d32216ffd