Aside from being a student, I consider myself a young professional. This past summer I interned with The Olympia Media Group and Odyssey, learning my way around deadlines, the responsibility of caring for a large group of like-minded individuals, personal integrity, and time-management. I've grown accustomed to a fast-paced work environment, the ominous presence of heavy deadlines, and the camaraderie that comes with a close-knit work environment. However, something that I have not grown accustomed to is the inherent lack of mutual respect for women in the workforce.

There is an innate presence of multi-level discrimination against women even though it's the 21-century. Having to break through the glass ceiling of prejudice, disproving those who endeavor to prove our failure by emanating professionalism and success, and making a name for ourselves as professionals are just three of the many obstacles that beat women down on a daily basis.

Something that I have learned under Odyssey is how to deal with this bigotry and fight it with civility, rectitude, and work to completely shatter the ever-evolving glass ceiling.

For every evening meal, Dad would sit down at our lengthy dining table, smiling at me as mom berated some poor soul on the other end of the phone in an adjacent room. I always sat down at one end of the table and dad sat at the other

I never realized the significance of this until later in life; my father wanted to see eye-to-eye with me. Allowing me to be at the other head of the table was a sign of appreciation; A sign of mutual approbation. My dad was teaching me from the beginning that I deserved respect.

Fourteen years later, I was sitting in a cushy booth sipping an overly iced macchiato and freezing my a** off. Clad in a light summer dress and dainty heels, I was prepping for a meeting while my friend Mike grabbed his coffee at the Starbucks counter.

He sauntered over and slid into the booth seat across from me, frowning at my appearance. "Why are you so dressed up?"

I smiled and laughed. "I'm going to a meeting. Why, do I normally look like a hobo?"

He cackled and said, "God, if I had to dress up like that to go to my meetings I would cry. I just show up in jeans and a tee-shirt and no one bats an eye."

Normally, that comment wouldn't bother me. However, coming from him, it really meant something; he holds the same position(s) as I do. He's the Editor-in-Chief of a campus newspaper, serves as a PR representative for a major organization, and held some side jobs that helped boost his resume. We often compare business plans and leadership tactics, analyzing each other's methods.

In my mind, we were equals: same jobs, same time commitments, same overall M.O. However, after hearing those words come out of his mouth, I was doused with a cold reality check. In the eyes of the general populace, Mike and I are not equals. Not even close.

You see, if I were to dress like Mike does at his meetings, I wouldn't be taken seriously. If I dared to wear jeans and a tee-shirt to anything minutely professional, it would look like I didn't care. As it is, whenever I tell people about my respective job titles, they react with shock and awe. Like a woman couldn't possibly handle that much responsibility. "Oh, you're an Editor-in-Chief? Do you ... like ... have time for that?"

When Mike tells our peers that he holds the same title, their reaction is typically along the lines of "Whoa! No way, that is so rad."

When Mike goes to a meeting, he can show up in jeans and still be seen as a force to be reckoned with. His professional gravitas comes from his wealth of experience. When I go to a meeting, I need to present myself as the most well-versed, perfect version of myself and leave little to no room for error. I need to don heels and dresses, makeup, and coiffed hair. In addition, I have to juxtapose this Barbie-like appearance with the resume of a man twice my senior and an air of strength and professionalism.

When all of these ingredients combine into a melting pot of career expertise and professional respectability, people are surprised. Because I'm a woman, incompetence is the first assumption that will be made about me. When I disprove the aforementioned assumptions, people, namely other professionals, are intimidated by me. Instead of incompetence, I am perceived as a threat. The traditional nuclear family model that places me into the mold of wife, mother, and possible part-time professional, is endangered.

The fact that I am a threat is a wonderful accomplishment. The fact that I get closer and closer with each professional stride to being perceived as equal in the eyes of my peers, particularly those who've grown accustomed to the domed-in glassy capsule that is gender inequality, is a feat I'm proud of. I'm that much closer to being at the table-end of my professional environment; to being able to see eye-to-eye with my peers and ultimately spur the respect that we, as equals, deserve.

Being a woman in the professional realm is anything but easy. However, it gives us, as women, a chance to prove what we're made of and fight gender favoritism with professional aptitude. Take the fact that you're a threat in stride, and always remember that you, women, deserve the respect and admiration that any and all men do.