It started with a seat at a Knicks game (mine) and the urge to shrink inside it.

What unfolded in that cramped little space said everything about how I’ve been trained to stay small and ask for less. Enough of this sh*t, women. Let’s take up some space!

My Revelation Revolution at Madison Square Garden

I was at a basketball game when I had a revelation.

It felt a little bit like a revolution—and it happened entirely inside my head, in my seat, while Madison Square Garden was going wild. I had this little moment with myself where I thought:

“Oh, nothing will ever be the same again.”

The Urge to Make Myself Small

I got to my seat. My husband was on one side, a bigger guy on the other. The seats aren’t wide, and we had sat down first.

I felt this urge to move over, to create space for him. I caught myself checking—Am I centered? Am I too close to him? Should I shift toward my husband?—just to make him more comfortable.

That instinct? To shrink, to make myself smaller, to avoid friction? It’s so ingrained.

This happens all the time—on airplanes, on trains, in waiting rooms. There’s one armrest. Who takes it?
The man? Usually. Without hesitation.
The woman? Only if she’s sure he doesn’t need it—and if their arms touch, she moves away quickly, as if contact is some violation.

Holding My Ground

That night, I decided:

I’m not pulling back. I’m not making myself small. I’m keeping my space.

The man sat down, and yes, he was bigger than me. But I was centered in my seat, entitled to my space. And I let myself feel that.

I even have a picture from the game—my husband on one side, this man on the other. Both of them sitting with legs comfortably apart. My legs? Crossed neatly, tucked in, fitting into the little slot between them.

But here’s the thing: this man was respectful. He didn’t try to take my space just because he could. I appreciated that. And maybe—just maybe—he was respectful because I was claiming it.

The Win That Mattered

The Knicks were up, then down, then up again. It was thrilling—and in the end, they lost. Heartbreaking for the team.

But for me? It was a win.

It was a win because I fought the urge to soothe his discomfort, my discomfort, by making myself small.
It was a win because I remembered: our problem as women isn’t taking up too much space—it’s taking up too little.

If it feels uncomfortable to take up space, that’s a sign we’re moving in the right direction.

Our Part of the Work

There are many men in the world who have no interest in making us small.
But we can’t blame them if we’re doing it to ourselves.

Sure, there are men who will try to diminish us. But there are plenty who won’t—if we give them the opportunity to see us as women who take up space.

We have our work to do: to show up fully, to claim our seats, to let ourselves be seen.

That night, my revelation revolution was simple:

This is my seat. I’m going to sit in it. I’m not going to make myself as tiny as possible for everyone else’s comfort.

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