Why I’m not editing my emails anymore

I’ll fix the typos and adjust for clarity. Then I’m hitting send. No more combing the email for one too many exclamation points, no more hovering over “just” a little too long, and no more overthinking. The email has got to go.

Women, you know what I’m talking about. A common career hack touted to us is the email audit—a painstaking scan of every message we send to ensure the tone and punctuation are authoritative enough to be taken seriously. We’ve been socialized since birth to apologize for being too demanding or too pushy—for existing, really—so career gurus advise that every up-and-coming woman double-check her communications for points of weakness. Sound too enthusiastic? Weak. Too acquiescent? Weak. 

They’re not wrong. Having a backbone is good, and many of these “missteps” aren’t considered professional in our current work environment. I just don’t care about the second half of that sentence anymore. Here’s why:

The other day I was emailing an external partner, a woman I message often but have only met in a video chat once. As we’ve corresponded over the course of months, our exchanges have become increasingly brief and messy, while also being friendly and honest. We sometimes opt for smiley faces over periods, and follow-ups or nudges get quick, frank replies: “I’m underwater, but this is on my radar. Talk soon.” Something like that. I love the candor and familiarity of this light work interaction, and as I typed my latest response to her, I realized that our ongoing authenticity has organically fostered what every email audit hopes to achieve: mutual respect and trust. 

This exchange is…easy, I thought. Why would I email any other way? 

The answer: because I’m not always emailing someone who expects me to be either capable or human. Our system dictates that I continuously prove the former and hide the latter. Professionalism is, in more ways than one, oppressive, and the guidance we give many women—scratch that—many white women to navigate that oppression equates to “email more like a man,” a girl-boss form of advice that’s not advancing anyone. 

Harvard graduate Evelyn Koh explains on her TikTok:

“White women are taught that the answer to their struggles and oppression as women is to be more like white men. They strive to be equal to white men. That’s why liberal feminism focuses on erasing feminine qualities altogether. Radical intersectional feminism strives to make sure that the default, the standard, and the model of humanity that we are taught to emulate shifts from those of white men to those of a diverse set of people across race, across gender, across sexuality, and across socioeconomic status. Listen, the goal of feminism is not to become like an oppressor. It is to change the way we understand and exercise power so there is no more oppression. Becoming more like white men is not liberation.”

Clearly, we’re not discussing just email anymore. Self-editing here is representative of the time and energy required and the voice and power relinquished to uphold a culture that actively works against many—not to mention doesn’t reward those who assimilate. Ever send a too-brisk email and had someone call you “aggressive” or “abrasive?” I promise it’s not your tone that was the real issue.

And to Koh’s point, the root of the problem isn’t that I was socialized to feel lesser than, even though I was, and should resocialize myself to fit some masculine ideal, which I have no desire to do. It’s that there’s currently one right way to be professional, and it’s white and male, and only one of those is me, and some people don’t check either of those boxes, so they work harder than I do. 

I’m not using up anymore of my headspace to mull whether an email can contain one “I think” or two or weigh how to apologize without apologizing for dropping the ball. I’m a woman answering emails, and this is how I communicate. Respect that.

Beth Castle is the managing editor at InHerSight.