The Mentor Who Lied

She was the first person in my career who made me feel like I belonged.

She was senior, respected, sharp in a way that made every room feel smaller. She took me under her wing early — coffee meetings, introductions, quiet words of encouragement when I doubted myself. I thought I'd found the mentor every ambitious woman hopes for.

It took me three years to find out she'd been undermining me the whole time.

The Mentor Myth

We talk a lot about the importance of mentors, especially for women navigating male-dominated industries. Find someone who's been where you want to go. Learn from them. Let them open doors.

What we talk about less is the fact that not everyone who presents as a mentor actually has your interests at heart.

Some people mentor because it makes them feel powerful. Because having a protégé is a form of control. Because keeping you close means keeping you manageable.

I didn't see it at the time. I was too grateful, too eager, too convinced that someone finally believed in me.

What I Didn't Know I Was Missing

The signs were there, in retrospect. The way she'd subtly redirect conversations about my achievements. The way she'd introduce me to people with qualifiers — "She's still finding her feet, but..." The way she'd offer advice that, when I followed it, consistently led me away from the opportunities I was chasing.

I thought she was being honest with me. I thought the caution was care.

What I didn't know was that she was also in those rooms after I left. Saying different things. Planting different seeds.

I found out the way you find out most things in corporate life: by accident. A forwarded email that wasn't meant for me. Three lines that rewrote three years of history.

The Particular Grief of Professional Betrayal

There's a kind of grief that comes with professional betrayal that doesn't get enough airtime.

It's not just the career damage — the opportunities missed, the relationships poisoned, the time lost. It's the identity damage. Because when someone you trusted tells the world a story about you that isn't true, you start to wonder which story is real.

I spent months questioning everything. Every piece of feedback she'd given me. Every decision I'd made based on her guidance. Every time I'd doubted myself because she'd suggested I should.

The imposter syndrome, which had been manageable, went into overdrive. If someone who knew me that well thought I wasn't capable, maybe she was right. Maybe I'd been fooling myself all along.

Rebuilding After Betrayal

What pulled me through was, oddly, anger.

Not the destructive kind — I didn't confront her, didn't burn anything down, didn't spend my energy on revenge. But the clean, clarifying kind of anger that comes when you finally see something clearly.

She had lied. That was about her, not me. Her behaviour was a reflection of her insecurity, her need for control, her fear of being outpaced. It had nothing to do with my actual capability.

I started rebuilding my professional relationships from scratch — this time with people who had no stake in keeping me small. I sought out mentors who celebrated my wins without qualification. I paid attention to who showed up for me when it cost them something.

And I got very, very good at spotting the difference between someone who wants to help you grow and someone who wants to keep you grateful.

What Real Mentorship Looks Like

Real mentors push you towards opportunities, not away from them. They speak well of you in rooms you're not in. They celebrate your success without making it about themselves. They tell you hard truths, but the kind that help you grow — not the kind that keep you doubting.

They don't need you to stay small to feel big.

If you have someone like that in your life, hold onto them. Tell them what they mean to you.

And if you have someone in your corner who leaves you feeling smaller after every interaction — who qualifies your achievements, redirects your ambitions, keeps you perpetually grateful and perpetually uncertain — trust that feeling. It's telling you something important.

You deserve mentors who are genuinely in your corner. Don't settle for less.

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The full story — including how I rebuilt my career and my confidence after this betrayal — is in Confessions of an Imposter. Available now on Amazon — and the audiobook is live this week too. Listen to the audiobook on Audible — narrated by the brilliant Sarah Kowalchuck.