STRONG WOMEN SHAKE THE WORLD | Reflecting on fellow Rotherham woman Rebecca Lucy Taylor’s fearless speech at the Ivor Novello Awards
Self Esteem, alternatively known as Rebecca Lucy Taylor, has been causing ‘controversy’, I mean telling the truth, for a long time now, not only through her music, but also through her unapologetic way of being a strong woman. She is also from Rotherham, like me, so I completely relate to this girl’s fearlessness. As a female-led team since our inception in 2025, I understand. I really, really get it. I don’t even want to start on the issues I’ve faced over the years; I’d be here all week. I read one of her interviews she gave most recently, in which she talked about the questioning, the scepticism, the way people still ask her whether she is writing her own music. She is an award winner, she is consistently proving herself, and yet still, this ongoing need for women to justify their triumph, to continually declare that they are there.
She was awarded the Visionary Award at the Ivor Novello Awards 2025 for her impact as an artist. Self Esteem delivered a raw, fearless and inspiring acceptance speech, where she was honoured with the Visionary Award alongside Amazon Music UK, celebrating her boundary-pushing, genre-defying songwriting. And after hearing her speak about the industry, about the way women who refuse to pander are met by the people, it made me think about my own world, the way the women who are strong and powerful are met with resistance and veiled put-downs.
I have lately been wondering about all of this, I mean, it’s nothing new, I’m always thinking about it. Not the kind of internal questioning that will change me, I am well aware of who I am, but the kind that slows me down. Because this is exactly what it does, it slows you down. When I hear the words that are said about certain women, broken down, dissected, labelled, I hesitate and I wonder, is there something about me that is too much? And then almost immediately, I realise I am not. The hesitation, the space of self-doubt, does not exist in me. It is ingrained deep, generations deep, something that I wasn’t supposed to learn.
It’s ubiquitous. Women are supposed to be beautiful, strong enough to be powerful, yet not powerful enough to be extremely successful. Self-assured, yet only charming rather than confrontational. Ambitious, yet not in control. The instant a woman deviates from neatly established boundaries, she runs into opposition, not necessarily because she is wrong, but because she’s disrupted the centuries-old complacency of cultural tradition
No one will say out loud that they despise strong women. It is more insidious. She is intense. She is demanding. She’s got attitude. She’s intimidating. The same attributes for which men are praised, drive, ambition, and tenacity, are questioned in women. A man is a leader, a woman is bossy. A man is firm, a woman is aggressive. A man is self-assured, a woman is full of herself. And it is not a sometime thing, it is deep-seated, generational, carried down unthinkingly, shaping the way women move through the world
This kind of conditioning is everywhere, including the workplace, where strong women are told to “tone down,” relationships, where independence is interpreted as coldness rather than as a demonstration of autonomy, leading positions, where directness is read as unfriendliness rather than as a mark of authority. Girls are conditioned to be sweet, people-pleasing, accommodating from an early age. Boys are conditioned to be bold, persistent, and unshakeable.
And lately, I’ve been thinking about how that carries over even to the smallest aspects of living, how even the manner in which women flirt is affected. I wonder if I can even flirt with men, because when I look at other women in the world or on television, it’s always so performative. Pandering, ego-stroking, playing a character. I’ve never been able to do that, and I think that dissuades a lot of men. No man has even jumped through hoops to inflate my ego, and I’m at a complete loss as to why I should have to keep his attention. It’s a two-way street for me, I reciprocate a person’s behaviour: you water me, I’ll water you. It always seems that because I’m not throwing myself at them, because I’m not so invested in making them bigger than themselves, in order to keep their attention, they lose attention quickly. Good.
But in all seriousness, I won’t lie, that’s draining, because no one is just taking others as they are. Everyone’s performing, moulding themselves into who they think others want them to be, reciting a script designed to make everything simpler, smoother, more digestible. And I will not be that ever. This is why I have always failed in PR I just cannot kiss arse with certain people who I know are absolute prats, I do not care what you can do for me. Northern Exposure is built on pure Northern girl grit and determination, not dropping my knickers or cosying up to any men in the industry. I do not see how people can live like this, and I do not want to learn. The whole dynamic is off kilter, as though if you do not go along with it, you are left behind, rejected, and ignored. But I will not be someone else for the people’s definition of success or attractiveness.
Even the most empowered women ask themselves sometimes, do I tone it down? Do I step back? And the worst part is. The moment women step into their whole power unapologetically, they make others uneasy. They throw others off script. They make others struggle with biases they’ve had their whole lives
That discomfort leads to the subtle suppression of their power. Assertiveness is interpreted as arrogance. Effort is discouraged by veiled criticism. They are tolerated rather than celebrated. Not only are women not allowed to be strong, but women are also not allowed to be strong in such a manner as to inconvenience others. Strength, when present in a woman unabashedly, without compromise, is seen as a disruption rather than a positive. It makes you sick, doesn’t it?
And yet, strong women press on. They occupy space without apology, despite the backlash, despite the criticism, despite the centuries of conditioning that prompts them to step aside, make room, occupy less space. They challenge old-school norms, transform culture, and demand change. And maybe that is why so many find them so unsettling, because theirs is living evidence that the old rules no longer hold.
And it’s not just men who are the demise of powerful women; see who’s keeping you up. See who’s really in your corner. Who’s out there tooting our horns? All manner of female friends who pose as our friends will not speak up for you loudly, and that is a problem as well. They’ll put you down behind your back because you are a threat in their eyes, and they’re conditioned to appease men. They’re also jealous, truth be told. Strength does not sit well with others, no matter from whence it comes. Even with women, there is an unvoiced discomfort, a shyness about openly celebrating the women who refuse to be diminished. It’s an ugly reality, one which must be said.
So when I hear the way women are talked about, when I see that hesitation creeping in, I remind myself, I am not too much. I’m not argumentative. I’m not something to be toned down to the comfort of another person’s expectations. I am exactly who I’m supposed to be, and no one gets to write that but me.
This is not an issue of women being perfect and men not perfect. It’s an issue of observing the extremely deep-seated double standards and prejudice underlying perceptions of women’s vigour and drive. That women who are strong are intimidating and men who are strong are admired because of their temerity is not an opinion; it’s reality, supported by history and experience. Indeed, women are not immune to doing something wrong, but that does not negate the fact that society pushes against women who refuse to be compliant, and that is what I am referring to.
