Opinion

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‘No one is too small to make a difference’

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There was a time when I walked into rooms quietly. No title. No profile. No confidence that my voice belonged at the table.
 
I was the doctor who did the work, kept my head down, tried not to take up too much space.
 
I told myself that one day when I was more experienced, more polished, more ‘ready’, I’d speak up. I’d lead. I’d advocate. I’d be seen.
 
But the truth is: ‘ready’ rarely arrives like a certificate.
 
Confidence doesn’t always come before courage. Often, it comes after.
 
What changed for me wasn’t a sudden promotion or a shiny role. It was people. People who saw something in me before I could see it in myself.
 
A supervisor who didn’t just teach medicine but modelled how to hold your ground with compassion. A colleague who said, ‘you should apply for that’, and then actually helped me do it. A mentor who created space for my ideas without making me feel like I had to earn oxygen first.
 
Small moments; but they were powerful. They were the difference between staying silent and stepping forward.
 
On International Women’s Day, I think about Greta Thunberg’s words: ‘No one is too small to make a difference’.
 
We often interpret that quote as a call to change the world. And it is.
 
But in medicine, I think it also means something more intimate: No one is too small to change a life.
 
No one is too small to shift a culture. No one is too small to open a door for someone else.
 
I remember one moment in my career with uncomfortable clarity. I’d shared an idea in a meeting nothing dramatic, just a practical suggestion about how we could improve a process and make things safer for patients. The room went quiet for a beat. Then came the smiles that didn’t quite reach the eyes.
 
‘That’s … ambitious.’ ‘Maybe focus on your clinical work first.’ ‘Let’s be realistic.’ And my personal favourite: ‘You’ll understand how things work once you’ve been around longer.’
 
It wasn’t overt enough to challenge without being labelled ‘difficult’. Nevertheless, it was pointed enough to do its job: shrink you, soften your edges, teach you to stay in your lane.
 
Because the barriers women face in medicine aren’t always dramatic. They’re often quietly structural:
 

• The meeting where you’re interrupted … repeatedly
• The leadership role offered to someone else because you’re ‘too busy’
• The roster that assumes you don’t have caring responsibilities
• The invisible penalty for empathy, time, and patient-centred care

 
We have come a long way. More women are entering medicine than ever before. More women are leading departments, colleges, and organisations. There is more visibility, more conversation, more momentum.
 
And still, there’s work to do. As a system.
 
There are obvious fixes we should stop delaying: pay equity, workplace safety, genuine flexibility, transparent recruitment and promotion, and pathways that don’t punish people for having children or for having a life.
 
But there’s also something we can do today, without a policy change.
 
We can choose to be the person who believes in someone early.
 
That belief might look like:
 

• inviting a colleague to share their view and then backing them when they do
• naming bias when it appears, even when it’s uncomfortable
• recommending a woman for a role before she ‘ticks every box’
• sponsoring not just mentoring so opportunities actually materialise
• asking, “Who’s missing from this room?” and doing something about it.

 
So, on International Women’s Day, I’m thinking about the younger version of me, the one with no title and not much confidence. And I’m thinking about the people who did. They probably didn’t realise how much they changed the trajectory of my life. But they did.
 
No one is too small to make a difference. Sometimes the difference is a policy. Sometimes it’s a movement.
 
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female GPs International Women’s Day

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