I once reached out to a massively successful Substack author and asked her to collaborate. Over the course of months, we hashed out our content, and then she disappeared.
A few weeks later, she posted an article on her Substack, on the topic we had discussed, that was blatantly plagiarized from a post deep in my archives. She made no mention of me whatsoever, but managed to cite the sources I referenced in my original post.
I was baffled. I had 30 subscribers, fewer views, and she felt giving me credit would, what, diminish her authority? Shrink her audience? That her hundreds of thousands of readers would abandon her because she used the ideas of a lowly newbie?
The power dynamic you mention, Danusia, is key; this wouldn’t have been pulled off so effortlessly if my platform were equal to hers. My Substack remained invisible, while silently supplying the content for hers to exponentially grow.
In the end, I filed a copyright infringement claim and the post was promptly removed. I wanted to let it go, that felt easier, but a friend pushed me to stand up for myself. And I’m grateful she did.
Laura, thank you for sharing this. And what a bloody gut-punch. That sinking feeling of recognising your work in someone else’s post, especially after collaborating, is uniquely disorienting. And yes, the power dynamic is doing so much of the heavy lifting here. It’s exactly what I named in the piece: the silence around this isn’t just about oversight, it’s about status, perception, and the ease with which some women erase others when they believe they can get away with it.
I’m so glad your friend encouraged you to act, and that you did. Not everyone has the energy to pursue it, and your choice to do so, even reluctantly, speaks to deep integrity and commitment to yourself. This is the murky stuff we need to drag into the light. And your voice here adds to that effort, thank you again for naming it!
‘Credit isn’t about my ego. It’s me caring about ethics.’ I loved reading this article!
as I head deeper into research collaborations, credit is my new currency and I’m no longer hoping for the best but being clear from the outset what my expectations are.
Credit as currency is exactly it. Not transactional, but ethical. It shows we were there. That our thinking helped shape what now exists. And yes to naming expectations upfront. That’s not arrogance, it’s clarity.
I love that you’re heading into your research collaborations with this energy. It’s such a powerful shift when we stop crossing our fingers and start owning our boundaries. Thank you for being here ❤️🔥
Just reading this brilliant article, articulated to excellence and it hits at the core of what so many of us have experienced yet not been able to express as clearly… because, as you say, are we imagining it? Are we making a story out of nothing? At least these are questions that I’ve asked myself when I’ve found myself in a similar situation and it just speaks to how deep the conditioning around making ourselves smaller go.. yet we keep going.
Thank you for the mention, it really touched me from such a powerful mind yourself. Keep Shining brightly ❤️❤️
That questioning: am I imagining this? am I making something out of nothing? is exactly what makes Sisterlifting so hard to name. You’re right the conditioning runs deep. We’re taught to second-guess our instincts, especially when it comes to friendships and protecting the things we’ve made. And yet, as you say, we keep going.
Thank you for our trust-full loving conversations ❤️
Would love to second what Elin said. I do wonder sometimes if I’m just imagining things. And then of course there is the added lense of championing others is a huge part of my work and I find it odd sometimes that it’s more strangers than friends who sometimes reciprocate that the strongest.
And I also am so grateful to the mention. Particularly as you have done so much lifting of me in the last month to help me get back on my feet. Appreciate you ❤️
You’re not imagining it Lucy. That jolt of “wait, why does this feel off?” isn’t your insecurity flaring up. Isn’t it your intuition clocking a one-sided dynamic dressed up as friendship? And when your literal job is championing others? The silence screams louder. And hurts!
I really appreciated your note. And I’m glad the mention felt good. You and I, we’ve been in this for years. That kind of friendship builds slowly, across time, in the loving and messy ways we show up for each other. Reciprocity’s a long game. And friendship? That’s a whole damn marathon. 💖
You’re not imagining it Lucy. That jolt of “wait, why does this feel off?” isn’t your insecurity flaring up. Isn’t it your intuition clocking a one-sided dynamic dressed up as friendship? And when your literal job is championing others? The silence screams louder. And hurts!
I really appreciated your note. And I’m glad the mention felt good. You and I, we’ve been in this for years. That kind of friendship builds slowly, across time, in the loving and messy ways we show up for each other. Reciprocity’s a long game. And friendship? That’s a whole damn marathon. 💖
I was so excited to read this post and it did not disappoint. I’m not sure why so many women (and people, in general) always feel the need to be in “competition” with each other. I LOVE how you focused this piece on “how to stop this and why we shouldn’t do this” rather than dissecting why it happens — your desire is clearly, and always is in your pieces, lifting others up, sharing what you know. I think you’re incredible and will continue reading the workings of your fabulous mind in perpetuity 💗
Violet, your comments lit me up and my eyes wet, thank you. Truly. I felt every word.
You named something so important here: the difference between endlessly dissecting the problem vs. offering a different way to live it. That’s the whole intention behind this piece, and honestly behind so much of my writing lately. We don’t need another postmortem on scarcity. We need scripts for generosity. Ways to practise it. And friends who help us stay brave when we do.
Thank you for being that kind of reader, and human 😉 You’ve made me feel so seen.
You've touched a nerve here, and I love that you talk about that which we don't talk about. I've had this happen before, and it's somehow more sinister when it happens among women and "friends". Unfortunately the possibility of sisterlifting has filled me with skepticism and mistrust, limiting potential collaborations. 😢
Julie, I hear you. There is something all the more cutting about it when it comes from women we trusted, women we assumed were operating from the same values of mutuality and generosity. And yes, it’s that very betrayal that makes us hesitate next time. That makes the instinct to collaborate feel risky rather than nourishing.
What you name, skepticism, mistrust, is such an understandable self-protection. I think many of us have internal alarms now that weren't there before. My hope is that naming it publicly can help shift that: not by pretending it won’t happen again, but by refusing to be silent if it does.
Thank you for saying this out loud. That’s how the script begins to change. Big hugs.
Danusia, there's so much to talk about here. The jealousy among women - and I've sometimes found this to be even more acute among women who are friends - is disturbing. I knew about the Mel Robbins thing. Not nice. I wonder if Mel Robbins feels any icky-ness about it, because my god I certainly would. And I admire Mel Robbins, I enjoy her podcasts (there was one recently about a lawyer who fights for people with life sentences or who are on death row that is incredibly moving), and all that ick gets swept under the carpet, but it shouldn't.
I hope I've never been guilty of sisterlifting anything, and if I have, I hope the person I lifted it from let me know.
I've been hurt by friends not supporting me, while I seem to be shouting their name and success from the rooftops over and over, decade after decade. Sometimes I wonder whether I should have a conversation with them. But I rarely do. Although I might write a poem inspired by them... would that be reverse sisterlifting?!
Oh Cesca, your words are so rich, thank you. That line about shouting other women’s names decade after decade…erm it lands. I think many of us know that sting, even if we’ve brushed it aside in the name of being “supportive.”
And yes, the ickiness around the Mel Robbins story lingers, precisely because it taps into something so recognisable. There’s a collective discomfort in calling it out, especially when we admire the person, it’s so much easier to sweep than sit with it.
As for writing a poem in response: not reverse Sisterlifting at all! If anything, it’s the most beautiful, generous translation, something sparked you, and you’re making meaning of it in your own voice. That’s creativity. And I’d bet it holds more truth and care than silence ever could.
This is so helpful. Thank you. I love the practical guide. It's really important in an age where we have access to so much information and connections.
I’m so glad it’s helpful, Faith, thank you for saying so. I really believe the practical part matters, especially now, when we’re all so connected and ideas can travel faster than we think. It’s not about rules, it’s about care and ethics... A way of saying, I remember where this came from, and it mattered to me. If you’ve ever had a moment like that, where you used something and wished you’d named the person, or saw your own words pop up somewhere unexpected, I’d really love to hear. 💕
I have experienced this very recently. I had contributed loads of work over two years, to a project close to my heart.
I highlighted ways it could develop; how it could overcome the problems it faced and how the strategy could be modified slightly to make it achievable and for everything to flow from that. I had put these ideas forward and they had been ignored by the woman at the top, despite the fact that she had asked for them. As she had ignored them, her deputy never responded either. There were other, more pressing priorities to deliver, so I kept on going until, another whole year later, I revisited the Strategy again, when we were struggling. It was obvious (to me, already highly qualified and experienced in this field for 15 years) that that was part of where the problems lay. It was not a priority, apparently. It was only when I finally resigned and created a comprehensive handover document, that I realised how almost everything I put work into, that I had originated - had been systematically ignored. Only work originated by the Lead person or deputy had been commented on. If I had been incompetent, that might have been understandable; if there was a better way forward that had been suggested - I would have been right behind it. As it was, I was, to the best of my knowledge, the most highly respected person in the organisation, and the "go-to" person for any queries.
Liz, thank you for sharing this. What you describe is something I’ve heard in my consulting more times than I can count: the invisibilising of someone’s contributions within a project they helped shape. It’s maddening. Especially when the request for ideas comes with a surface-level openness, but what follows is silence, or worse, deletion.
The heartbreak isn’t just the lack of credit, is it? It’s the realisation that someone else’s ego was allowed to dictate the terms of what got seen, shared, or acknowledged. And when that happens over and over, the only route left sometimes is resignation, not out of failure, but refusal to keep offering brilliance into a void.
It’s no small thing to keep your standards and dignity intact in the face of that. I see it. And I’m so glad you named it here. 🫶🏼
Goodness, Danusia! I've never experienced the like, but it doesn't surprise me. It's a different kind of cut when made by another woman--a "sister." Thank you for addressing this issue with such gusto and zing (per your usual)! I also really appreciated your list of examples of how to give credit to those who deserve credit. :)
It IS a different kind of cut, isn’t it? That sister-edge wounds in strange places and in weird ways. I’m so glad the credit list hit home, may we all be generous, gutsy givers of it. Thank you for reading with such spirit! Btw I love hearing from you xx
The first time this happened to me was in fourth or fifth grade. I was peer editing one of my best friend's papers and came up with a new opening line for the piece. For the rest of the year, my teacher used that as the example of a great opening line in front of the class every time we talked about how to start an essay and my friend silently took the credit every time. I still remember how that felt.
Oh wow, thank you for sharing that, and yuk too on your behalf.
Isn’t it wild how clearly we remember the first time this happens? Fourth or fifth grade and it still lives in your body. That feeling of being erased while someone else is applauded… especially when it’s a friend. It messes with your instincts about trust before you’ve even got the language for what’s going on. I’m really grateful you brought this into the space, it so matters. 🫶🏼
Years ago I wrote books, I didn't stick at it for long as I didn't really have the stamina. I shared an ebook I'd written with a well known author I was friends with, but she didn't comment on it. Eventually I asked her what she thought of my precious book. Her reply was that she hadn't read it because she shared her Kindle with her husband and she was embarrassed that he'd find out she read rather steamy books like mine.
I thought that was a very weird reason as she writes rather steamy books, but I decided she must have hated my book and couldn't bear to tell me.
Then soon after I found out she'd written a book that had a character with exactly the same name, exactly the same rather striking appearance. Different enough to be different, but...
I never read her book in case somehow it could be traced back to me online and they'd say 'you stole her character, not the other way round.'
But I will always wonder- did she steal my character, or not?
And talking of that, I had a discussion with another author about a plotline, and she went on to write a book about that plotline. So did I! But of course she was more successful so her book was popular.
I don't write books anymore though, I lost interest. But I will always wonder if those authors stole my ideas but didn't credit me.
Oh Catherine, what an awful tangle. That thing where someone tweaks just enough of your idea that it’s no longer “yours,” but not exactly theirs either? Total mindfuck. And then to feel like you’re the one who has to stay quiet, just in case someone thinks you’re the copycat? That does something to a person. Especially when it happens more than once. I'm so sorry you experienced this.
What hit me MOST wasn’t just the specific moments you describe, it’s the fact that you stopped. That you stepped away from writing altogether. That kind of erosion doesn’t get talked about enough. It’s not about rage or drama or courtroom-level betrayals. Sometimes it’s just enough doubt, layered slowly, to make you stop doing what you loved.
Thank you sincerely for sharing this vulnerable part of your life. ❤️🔥
It's not as bad as it sounds, I got carried away talking about those authors. I didn't step away from writing altogether, what happened was I got tired of all the self promotion, marketing, dealing with 'unrealistic' fans I had to do to sell books. I am not interested in being a 'personality' and being in the public eye. I am now an editor and fanfiction writer, still in the writing business but hiding in the background. I like writing so I write. Those authors didn't put me off.
But I never tell authors my plot ideas anymore! They lost me.
The second guessing our feeling “is this… or is this not….” So well said Danusia!
I’ve experienced what you described on substack with my words, descriptions and ideas but not from people I’d say I’m friends with, just “familiar”, and seen this pattern across notes in general to a level that’s absolutely sickening.
Same in the corporate world. It’s annoying but I stand my ground there and I find it less blurry in terms of is it, or is it not…
I think that if you take what isn’t yours without credit, it will backfire in one way or the other. So while it may make some more successful in the short run, it’s not sustainable and quite hollow as soon as they are expected to give context to “their” apparent ideas, that aren’t theirs.
I wonder if academia makes you less of a “thief” as the way you described? The rigour with citing properly definitely left a mark on me to an extreme that sometimes almost feels limiting. What is an original thought? Can we think without being inspired by someone or something, truly?
Oh this is rich, thank you, Carmen. So many chewy bits here.
That flicker of “is it or isn’t it?” I feel like that’s the exact crack where self-doubt sneaks in and credibility starts to leak. And when it’s not even “friends,” but Substack mutuals or workplace neighbours… ooof, it can feel plain old weird. Because there’s no shared intimacy to call upon, but still enough proximity to make it sting a bit.
And YES to what you said about the hollowness. I’ve been in rooms where someone’s rep is built on borrowed sheen and the second they’re asked to unpack it, the bluff wobbles. It’s like watching a karaoke singer forget the words halfway through a song they didn’t write.
Your question about academia is so good. That muscle memory of citing sources can become a kind of over-correct like we’re apologising for being part of a lineage instead of owning our place in it. (I'm not apologising for being an academic btw!)
And you’re right, everything is a remix at some level. But there’s a world of difference between remix and repackaging. The first is creative. The second is… theft in a velvet glove ⚠️
This could be a whole separate essay. Let’s not pretend I’m not now turning that idea over in my head. If I write anything I'll credit you...
Thank you for another thought provoking essay Danusia. Your essay on AI a month ago is playing out in my life in big ways and I want to pay huge credit to you for that, and for raising this issue today. My mum always credited things I said or suggestions I made to one of my brothers, and your essay this morning has exposed how deeply conditioned in to us this is, and how it is in part perpetuated by women in a complex weave of self and other rubbing out. In an interesting connection between your two essays one of the things that I have become aware of as I explore, experiment and decide what I think about, and understand about AI, is how much it impacts me when it takes my words, re-writes them and churns out something mine but not mine. I pick it up every-time and now repeatedly tell it to use only my words, so maybe that will translate into a different way of being in ‘real’ life. Our words and ideas are who we are, and we have the right to defend that and to be credited for them. The bigger issue this raises for me is again connected to AI and the META’s breaking if the law to scrape of thousands of books to train their AI. I’ve only seen responses by women to this and that will be a reflection of the circle I’m in, but I wonder if women's words come from a more personal, relational place of connecting, often offered in support, and encouragement, and their theft on any level impacts us deeply but the spirit they were offered in, makes it hard to then say, ‘I said/wrote that.’
Oh my, this is layered and so alive - thank you for bringing many threads into one comment, and for weaving them so personally.
Your mum crediting your words to your brother, it’s so small on the surface, and yet that kind of misattribution burrows deep. It teaches you early that being smart, being original, being the source might not earn you the recognition it should. And if that lesson starts in childhood, it’s no wonder we hesitate later when someone lifts from us. We’ve been trained to question whether it’s even worth the correction!
What you’re saying about AI is fascinating (ofc you know I'm so on this) and I think you’ve nailed something essential. It’s not just about the mechanics of “rewriting.” It’s about the subtle violence of being almost heard, nearly credited, sort-of represented. And yes: I wonder too if the reason it cuts especially deep for women is because we’ve often written from the margins, in community, and in care. Our voices carry the very textures of connection. So when they’re scraped, stripped, reassembled it’s not merely transactional theft, it’s erasure of context. Of tone. Of intent. Of our core.
There’s something here about how we train AI, yes but also how we train ourselves to say, “Actually… that line was mine.” Even when it’s awkward. Even when the room goes quiet. It's such a profound reclamation.
‘Affectionate on the surface, extractive underneath’ this nails it. Ive felt it, however, it’s actually happened with two mentors, not with friends. Both mentors took my concepts and phrases that I landed upon during some clarity in our 1-1 and used them for social media content as if it’s their own original ideas.
Kinda like, cheerleading me to my face, extractive underneath. It’s gross, in all forms, between any humans, in any type of relationship.
Yes, yes, yes to “cheerleading me to my face, extractive underneath.” That weird whiplash between praise and sneaky theft. Especially when it’s from someone in a position of influence, like a mentor, it totally messes with your calibration. You start wondering if naming it would make you look petty or ungrateful. Which of course is part of how it keeps happening!
Mentorship should be a place where your ideas get clearer, stronger, more your own, not where they get lifted and rebranded. And you’re right, it doesn’t matter whether it’s friendship or guidance or any other kind of relationship: if there’s power being pulled one way without acknowledgement, it’s extractive. You said it best: gross, in all forms. Thank you for putting your wisdom into this mix. I always adore hearing from you Sarina!
You’re so right it really messed with my calibration, and I did question whether speaking out would make me look petty, although you’ve now made me more aware of this very process I had afterwards. Gosh the words lifted and rebranded feel spot on!
Thank YOU for this piece it’s truly made me see more clearly now and I feel more empowers for tackling this if there’s a next time 🙏🏽
Thank you for this! I literally cried, I have been trying to find validation outside of me and my family… and i felt like I was going crazy!! I needed this.
Astro, I’m so glad you said this. That flicker of “am I going mad?” when something’s off but no one’s naming it, that’s the exact disorientation this piece tries to hold up to the light. You’re not crazy. You just saw it clearly.
And this recent line from @Jericho has been on my mind: “Sometimes, we’re so used to ‘writing well’ that we often forget to write honest…” You landed squarely in the honest. Thank you for meeting me there. 😉🪴
I'm so often people's soundboard, but also because I used to write the words for authors, comedians, actors, CEOs and even Prime Minister's I'm so used to being uncredited. I've even seen storylines from my books turn up in TV shows completely i acknowledged. I feel it as a woman of colour especially.
Amy, thank you for sharing this and for naming so many layered threads in one breath. Let’s untangle a few, because I think they matter differently.
Being someone’s sounding board is intimate work. Sometimes it’s deliberate, a friendship circle, a close collaborator, someone chewing over ideas over coffee. Sometimes it’s looser: a pattern of people coming to you, knowing you’ll shape things they can later polish and parade. In those cases, the relationship might feel casual, but the extraction isn’t.
Then there’s ghostwriting or client work, paid, professional, explicitly transactional. That’s a different exchange. But even there, I find myself asking: when the work seeps into public domains (books, keynotes, branding, campaigns), and the originator is deliberately unmentioned, especially when relationships have grown warm or close, are we sure it’s always clean? Payment doesn’t negate the ethics of acknowledgement.
And when you say storylines from your books have ended up in TV shows, uncredited, that’s a whole other beast. And I’m curious: what did you do, if anything? How did that land for you emotionally or professionally? [sidenote: I had a TV format I’d written stolen, then recovered it…quite the experience].
Lastly, and perhaps most importantly, you mention feeling this especially as a woman of colour. I want to honour that. And also get curious. Do you think women of colour credit others more readily? Are white women more likely to step over that line? There’s so much we don’t say aloud here. But I want to hear more if you’re open to sharing.
This terrain is messy. And charged. But your comment opens up some vital cracks, thank you! ❤️
Honestly, I do think women of colours' labour is taken more freely. And I think it isn't recognised how much harder it is to speak up and how much more we're risking when we do. But we live in the UK. I think class probably comes into it as well. Class and access to resources. Do you have the resources to make a challenge, when it will it literally cost you. Sometimes you do feel like a collectable who is useful. But that's just my pov.
This is the bit I keep thinking on: Do you have the resources to make a challenge, when it will literally cost you? That’s the gut of it, isn’t it?
There’s this ridiculous myth that “just say something” is easy. But for so many women, especially women of colour, it isn’t just about confidence. It’s about calculus. What do I lose if I do this? Who stops calling? Who freezes me out, even more?
And yes to the class layer. And access. And what you said about being “a collectable. Christ. Sometimes it feels like you’re invited in because you’re brilliant, but kept in the corner so no one has to deal with what that brilliance really means. Collected only to be ignored, snubbed, held back.
I once reached out to a massively successful Substack author and asked her to collaborate. Over the course of months, we hashed out our content, and then she disappeared.
A few weeks later, she posted an article on her Substack, on the topic we had discussed, that was blatantly plagiarized from a post deep in my archives. She made no mention of me whatsoever, but managed to cite the sources I referenced in my original post.
I was baffled. I had 30 subscribers, fewer views, and she felt giving me credit would, what, diminish her authority? Shrink her audience? That her hundreds of thousands of readers would abandon her because she used the ideas of a lowly newbie?
The power dynamic you mention, Danusia, is key; this wouldn’t have been pulled off so effortlessly if my platform were equal to hers. My Substack remained invisible, while silently supplying the content for hers to exponentially grow.
In the end, I filed a copyright infringement claim and the post was promptly removed. I wanted to let it go, that felt easier, but a friend pushed me to stand up for myself. And I’m grateful she did.
Laura, thank you for sharing this. And what a bloody gut-punch. That sinking feeling of recognising your work in someone else’s post, especially after collaborating, is uniquely disorienting. And yes, the power dynamic is doing so much of the heavy lifting here. It’s exactly what I named in the piece: the silence around this isn’t just about oversight, it’s about status, perception, and the ease with which some women erase others when they believe they can get away with it.
I’m so glad your friend encouraged you to act, and that you did. Not everyone has the energy to pursue it, and your choice to do so, even reluctantly, speaks to deep integrity and commitment to yourself. This is the murky stuff we need to drag into the light. And your voice here adds to that effort, thank you again for naming it!
‘Credit isn’t about my ego. It’s me caring about ethics.’ I loved reading this article!
as I head deeper into research collaborations, credit is my new currency and I’m no longer hoping for the best but being clear from the outset what my expectations are.
Leila, I’m SO glad that line landed for you!
Credit as currency is exactly it. Not transactional, but ethical. It shows we were there. That our thinking helped shape what now exists. And yes to naming expectations upfront. That’s not arrogance, it’s clarity.
I love that you’re heading into your research collaborations with this energy. It’s such a powerful shift when we stop crossing our fingers and start owning our boundaries. Thank you for being here ❤️🔥
Just reading this brilliant article, articulated to excellence and it hits at the core of what so many of us have experienced yet not been able to express as clearly… because, as you say, are we imagining it? Are we making a story out of nothing? At least these are questions that I’ve asked myself when I’ve found myself in a similar situation and it just speaks to how deep the conditioning around making ourselves smaller go.. yet we keep going.
Thank you for the mention, it really touched me from such a powerful mind yourself. Keep Shining brightly ❤️❤️
Elin, this is such a generous message!
That questioning: am I imagining this? am I making something out of nothing? is exactly what makes Sisterlifting so hard to name. You’re right the conditioning runs deep. We’re taught to second-guess our instincts, especially when it comes to friendships and protecting the things we’ve made. And yet, as you say, we keep going.
Thank you for our trust-full loving conversations ❤️
Would love to second what Elin said. I do wonder sometimes if I’m just imagining things. And then of course there is the added lense of championing others is a huge part of my work and I find it odd sometimes that it’s more strangers than friends who sometimes reciprocate that the strongest.
And I also am so grateful to the mention. Particularly as you have done so much lifting of me in the last month to help me get back on my feet. Appreciate you ❤️
You’re not imagining it Lucy. That jolt of “wait, why does this feel off?” isn’t your insecurity flaring up. Isn’t it your intuition clocking a one-sided dynamic dressed up as friendship? And when your literal job is championing others? The silence screams louder. And hurts!
I really appreciated your note. And I’m glad the mention felt good. You and I, we’ve been in this for years. That kind of friendship builds slowly, across time, in the loving and messy ways we show up for each other. Reciprocity’s a long game. And friendship? That’s a whole damn marathon. 💖
You’re not imagining it Lucy. That jolt of “wait, why does this feel off?” isn’t your insecurity flaring up. Isn’t it your intuition clocking a one-sided dynamic dressed up as friendship? And when your literal job is championing others? The silence screams louder. And hurts!
I really appreciated your note. And I’m glad the mention felt good. You and I, we’ve been in this for years. That kind of friendship builds slowly, across time, in the loving and messy ways we show up for each other. Reciprocity’s a long game. And friendship? That’s a whole damn marathon. 💖
I was so excited to read this post and it did not disappoint. I’m not sure why so many women (and people, in general) always feel the need to be in “competition” with each other. I LOVE how you focused this piece on “how to stop this and why we shouldn’t do this” rather than dissecting why it happens — your desire is clearly, and always is in your pieces, lifting others up, sharing what you know. I think you’re incredible and will continue reading the workings of your fabulous mind in perpetuity 💗
Violet, your comments lit me up and my eyes wet, thank you. Truly. I felt every word.
You named something so important here: the difference between endlessly dissecting the problem vs. offering a different way to live it. That’s the whole intention behind this piece, and honestly behind so much of my writing lately. We don’t need another postmortem on scarcity. We need scripts for generosity. Ways to practise it. And friends who help us stay brave when we do.
Thank you for being that kind of reader, and human 😉 You’ve made me feel so seen.
You've touched a nerve here, and I love that you talk about that which we don't talk about. I've had this happen before, and it's somehow more sinister when it happens among women and "friends". Unfortunately the possibility of sisterlifting has filled me with skepticism and mistrust, limiting potential collaborations. 😢
Julie, I hear you. There is something all the more cutting about it when it comes from women we trusted, women we assumed were operating from the same values of mutuality and generosity. And yes, it’s that very betrayal that makes us hesitate next time. That makes the instinct to collaborate feel risky rather than nourishing.
What you name, skepticism, mistrust, is such an understandable self-protection. I think many of us have internal alarms now that weren't there before. My hope is that naming it publicly can help shift that: not by pretending it won’t happen again, but by refusing to be silent if it does.
Thank you for saying this out loud. That’s how the script begins to change. Big hugs.
Yes, and thank YOU for calling it out and giving us words we can use to stand up to it. 💜
Danusia, there's so much to talk about here. The jealousy among women - and I've sometimes found this to be even more acute among women who are friends - is disturbing. I knew about the Mel Robbins thing. Not nice. I wonder if Mel Robbins feels any icky-ness about it, because my god I certainly would. And I admire Mel Robbins, I enjoy her podcasts (there was one recently about a lawyer who fights for people with life sentences or who are on death row that is incredibly moving), and all that ick gets swept under the carpet, but it shouldn't.
I hope I've never been guilty of sisterlifting anything, and if I have, I hope the person I lifted it from let me know.
I've been hurt by friends not supporting me, while I seem to be shouting their name and success from the rooftops over and over, decade after decade. Sometimes I wonder whether I should have a conversation with them. But I rarely do. Although I might write a poem inspired by them... would that be reverse sisterlifting?!
Cesca xx
Oh Cesca, your words are so rich, thank you. That line about shouting other women’s names decade after decade…erm it lands. I think many of us know that sting, even if we’ve brushed it aside in the name of being “supportive.”
And yes, the ickiness around the Mel Robbins story lingers, precisely because it taps into something so recognisable. There’s a collective discomfort in calling it out, especially when we admire the person, it’s so much easier to sweep than sit with it.
As for writing a poem in response: not reverse Sisterlifting at all! If anything, it’s the most beautiful, generous translation, something sparked you, and you’re making meaning of it in your own voice. That’s creativity. And I’d bet it holds more truth and care than silence ever could.
Sending admiration x
This is so helpful. Thank you. I love the practical guide. It's really important in an age where we have access to so much information and connections.
I’m so glad it’s helpful, Faith, thank you for saying so. I really believe the practical part matters, especially now, when we’re all so connected and ideas can travel faster than we think. It’s not about rules, it’s about care and ethics... A way of saying, I remember where this came from, and it mattered to me. If you’ve ever had a moment like that, where you used something and wished you’d named the person, or saw your own words pop up somewhere unexpected, I’d really love to hear. 💕
I have experienced this very recently. I had contributed loads of work over two years, to a project close to my heart.
I highlighted ways it could develop; how it could overcome the problems it faced and how the strategy could be modified slightly to make it achievable and for everything to flow from that. I had put these ideas forward and they had been ignored by the woman at the top, despite the fact that she had asked for them. As she had ignored them, her deputy never responded either. There were other, more pressing priorities to deliver, so I kept on going until, another whole year later, I revisited the Strategy again, when we were struggling. It was obvious (to me, already highly qualified and experienced in this field for 15 years) that that was part of where the problems lay. It was not a priority, apparently. It was only when I finally resigned and created a comprehensive handover document, that I realised how almost everything I put work into, that I had originated - had been systematically ignored. Only work originated by the Lead person or deputy had been commented on. If I had been incompetent, that might have been understandable; if there was a better way forward that had been suggested - I would have been right behind it. As it was, I was, to the best of my knowledge, the most highly respected person in the organisation, and the "go-to" person for any queries.
Liz, thank you for sharing this. What you describe is something I’ve heard in my consulting more times than I can count: the invisibilising of someone’s contributions within a project they helped shape. It’s maddening. Especially when the request for ideas comes with a surface-level openness, but what follows is silence, or worse, deletion.
The heartbreak isn’t just the lack of credit, is it? It’s the realisation that someone else’s ego was allowed to dictate the terms of what got seen, shared, or acknowledged. And when that happens over and over, the only route left sometimes is resignation, not out of failure, but refusal to keep offering brilliance into a void.
It’s no small thing to keep your standards and dignity intact in the face of that. I see it. And I’m so glad you named it here. 🫶🏼
Goodness, Danusia! I've never experienced the like, but it doesn't surprise me. It's a different kind of cut when made by another woman--a "sister." Thank you for addressing this issue with such gusto and zing (per your usual)! I also really appreciated your list of examples of how to give credit to those who deserve credit. :)
It IS a different kind of cut, isn’t it? That sister-edge wounds in strange places and in weird ways. I’m so glad the credit list hit home, may we all be generous, gutsy givers of it. Thank you for reading with such spirit! Btw I love hearing from you xx
The first time this happened to me was in fourth or fifth grade. I was peer editing one of my best friend's papers and came up with a new opening line for the piece. For the rest of the year, my teacher used that as the example of a great opening line in front of the class every time we talked about how to start an essay and my friend silently took the credit every time. I still remember how that felt.
Oh wow, thank you for sharing that, and yuk too on your behalf.
Isn’t it wild how clearly we remember the first time this happens? Fourth or fifth grade and it still lives in your body. That feeling of being erased while someone else is applauded… especially when it’s a friend. It messes with your instincts about trust before you’ve even got the language for what’s going on. I’m really grateful you brought this into the space, it so matters. 🫶🏼
Thanks for this, it pressed a button.
Years ago I wrote books, I didn't stick at it for long as I didn't really have the stamina. I shared an ebook I'd written with a well known author I was friends with, but she didn't comment on it. Eventually I asked her what she thought of my precious book. Her reply was that she hadn't read it because she shared her Kindle with her husband and she was embarrassed that he'd find out she read rather steamy books like mine.
I thought that was a very weird reason as she writes rather steamy books, but I decided she must have hated my book and couldn't bear to tell me.
Then soon after I found out she'd written a book that had a character with exactly the same name, exactly the same rather striking appearance. Different enough to be different, but...
I never read her book in case somehow it could be traced back to me online and they'd say 'you stole her character, not the other way round.'
But I will always wonder- did she steal my character, or not?
And talking of that, I had a discussion with another author about a plotline, and she went on to write a book about that plotline. So did I! But of course she was more successful so her book was popular.
I don't write books anymore though, I lost interest. But I will always wonder if those authors stole my ideas but didn't credit me.
Thanks for letting me get that off my chest!
Oh Catherine, what an awful tangle. That thing where someone tweaks just enough of your idea that it’s no longer “yours,” but not exactly theirs either? Total mindfuck. And then to feel like you’re the one who has to stay quiet, just in case someone thinks you’re the copycat? That does something to a person. Especially when it happens more than once. I'm so sorry you experienced this.
What hit me MOST wasn’t just the specific moments you describe, it’s the fact that you stopped. That you stepped away from writing altogether. That kind of erosion doesn’t get talked about enough. It’s not about rage or drama or courtroom-level betrayals. Sometimes it’s just enough doubt, layered slowly, to make you stop doing what you loved.
Thank you sincerely for sharing this vulnerable part of your life. ❤️🔥
Thanks for your kindness, it means a lot.💖
It's not as bad as it sounds, I got carried away talking about those authors. I didn't step away from writing altogether, what happened was I got tired of all the self promotion, marketing, dealing with 'unrealistic' fans I had to do to sell books. I am not interested in being a 'personality' and being in the public eye. I am now an editor and fanfiction writer, still in the writing business but hiding in the background. I like writing so I write. Those authors didn't put me off.
But I never tell authors my plot ideas anymore! They lost me.
The second guessing our feeling “is this… or is this not….” So well said Danusia!
I’ve experienced what you described on substack with my words, descriptions and ideas but not from people I’d say I’m friends with, just “familiar”, and seen this pattern across notes in general to a level that’s absolutely sickening.
Same in the corporate world. It’s annoying but I stand my ground there and I find it less blurry in terms of is it, or is it not…
I think that if you take what isn’t yours without credit, it will backfire in one way or the other. So while it may make some more successful in the short run, it’s not sustainable and quite hollow as soon as they are expected to give context to “their” apparent ideas, that aren’t theirs.
I wonder if academia makes you less of a “thief” as the way you described? The rigour with citing properly definitely left a mark on me to an extreme that sometimes almost feels limiting. What is an original thought? Can we think without being inspired by someone or something, truly?
Oh this is rich, thank you, Carmen. So many chewy bits here.
That flicker of “is it or isn’t it?” I feel like that’s the exact crack where self-doubt sneaks in and credibility starts to leak. And when it’s not even “friends,” but Substack mutuals or workplace neighbours… ooof, it can feel plain old weird. Because there’s no shared intimacy to call upon, but still enough proximity to make it sting a bit.
And YES to what you said about the hollowness. I’ve been in rooms where someone’s rep is built on borrowed sheen and the second they’re asked to unpack it, the bluff wobbles. It’s like watching a karaoke singer forget the words halfway through a song they didn’t write.
Your question about academia is so good. That muscle memory of citing sources can become a kind of over-correct like we’re apologising for being part of a lineage instead of owning our place in it. (I'm not apologising for being an academic btw!)
And you’re right, everything is a remix at some level. But there’s a world of difference between remix and repackaging. The first is creative. The second is… theft in a velvet glove ⚠️
This could be a whole separate essay. Let’s not pretend I’m not now turning that idea over in my head. If I write anything I'll credit you...
Thank you for another thought provoking essay Danusia. Your essay on AI a month ago is playing out in my life in big ways and I want to pay huge credit to you for that, and for raising this issue today. My mum always credited things I said or suggestions I made to one of my brothers, and your essay this morning has exposed how deeply conditioned in to us this is, and how it is in part perpetuated by women in a complex weave of self and other rubbing out. In an interesting connection between your two essays one of the things that I have become aware of as I explore, experiment and decide what I think about, and understand about AI, is how much it impacts me when it takes my words, re-writes them and churns out something mine but not mine. I pick it up every-time and now repeatedly tell it to use only my words, so maybe that will translate into a different way of being in ‘real’ life. Our words and ideas are who we are, and we have the right to defend that and to be credited for them. The bigger issue this raises for me is again connected to AI and the META’s breaking if the law to scrape of thousands of books to train their AI. I’ve only seen responses by women to this and that will be a reflection of the circle I’m in, but I wonder if women's words come from a more personal, relational place of connecting, often offered in support, and encouragement, and their theft on any level impacts us deeply but the spirit they were offered in, makes it hard to then say, ‘I said/wrote that.’
Oh my, this is layered and so alive - thank you for bringing many threads into one comment, and for weaving them so personally.
Your mum crediting your words to your brother, it’s so small on the surface, and yet that kind of misattribution burrows deep. It teaches you early that being smart, being original, being the source might not earn you the recognition it should. And if that lesson starts in childhood, it’s no wonder we hesitate later when someone lifts from us. We’ve been trained to question whether it’s even worth the correction!
What you’re saying about AI is fascinating (ofc you know I'm so on this) and I think you’ve nailed something essential. It’s not just about the mechanics of “rewriting.” It’s about the subtle violence of being almost heard, nearly credited, sort-of represented. And yes: I wonder too if the reason it cuts especially deep for women is because we’ve often written from the margins, in community, and in care. Our voices carry the very textures of connection. So when they’re scraped, stripped, reassembled it’s not merely transactional theft, it’s erasure of context. Of tone. Of intent. Of our core.
There’s something here about how we train AI, yes but also how we train ourselves to say, “Actually… that line was mine.” Even when it’s awkward. Even when the room goes quiet. It's such a profound reclamation.
I so appreciate your voice Jaimie. 🙏🏻💖
‘Affectionate on the surface, extractive underneath’ this nails it. Ive felt it, however, it’s actually happened with two mentors, not with friends. Both mentors took my concepts and phrases that I landed upon during some clarity in our 1-1 and used them for social media content as if it’s their own original ideas.
Kinda like, cheerleading me to my face, extractive underneath. It’s gross, in all forms, between any humans, in any type of relationship.
Yes, yes, yes to “cheerleading me to my face, extractive underneath.” That weird whiplash between praise and sneaky theft. Especially when it’s from someone in a position of influence, like a mentor, it totally messes with your calibration. You start wondering if naming it would make you look petty or ungrateful. Which of course is part of how it keeps happening!
Mentorship should be a place where your ideas get clearer, stronger, more your own, not where they get lifted and rebranded. And you’re right, it doesn’t matter whether it’s friendship or guidance or any other kind of relationship: if there’s power being pulled one way without acknowledgement, it’s extractive. You said it best: gross, in all forms. Thank you for putting your wisdom into this mix. I always adore hearing from you Sarina!
You’re so right it really messed with my calibration, and I did question whether speaking out would make me look petty, although you’ve now made me more aware of this very process I had afterwards. Gosh the words lifted and rebranded feel spot on!
Thank YOU for this piece it’s truly made me see more clearly now and I feel more empowers for tackling this if there’s a next time 🙏🏽
Thank you for this! I literally cried, I have been trying to find validation outside of me and my family… and i felt like I was going crazy!! I needed this.
Astro, I’m so glad you said this. That flicker of “am I going mad?” when something’s off but no one’s naming it, that’s the exact disorientation this piece tries to hold up to the light. You’re not crazy. You just saw it clearly.
And this recent line from @Jericho has been on my mind: “Sometimes, we’re so used to ‘writing well’ that we often forget to write honest…” You landed squarely in the honest. Thank you for meeting me there. 😉🪴
I'm so often people's soundboard, but also because I used to write the words for authors, comedians, actors, CEOs and even Prime Minister's I'm so used to being uncredited. I've even seen storylines from my books turn up in TV shows completely i acknowledged. I feel it as a woman of colour especially.
Amy, thank you for sharing this and for naming so many layered threads in one breath. Let’s untangle a few, because I think they matter differently.
Being someone’s sounding board is intimate work. Sometimes it’s deliberate, a friendship circle, a close collaborator, someone chewing over ideas over coffee. Sometimes it’s looser: a pattern of people coming to you, knowing you’ll shape things they can later polish and parade. In those cases, the relationship might feel casual, but the extraction isn’t.
Then there’s ghostwriting or client work, paid, professional, explicitly transactional. That’s a different exchange. But even there, I find myself asking: when the work seeps into public domains (books, keynotes, branding, campaigns), and the originator is deliberately unmentioned, especially when relationships have grown warm or close, are we sure it’s always clean? Payment doesn’t negate the ethics of acknowledgement.
And when you say storylines from your books have ended up in TV shows, uncredited, that’s a whole other beast. And I’m curious: what did you do, if anything? How did that land for you emotionally or professionally? [sidenote: I had a TV format I’d written stolen, then recovered it…quite the experience].
Lastly, and perhaps most importantly, you mention feeling this especially as a woman of colour. I want to honour that. And also get curious. Do you think women of colour credit others more readily? Are white women more likely to step over that line? There’s so much we don’t say aloud here. But I want to hear more if you’re open to sharing.
This terrain is messy. And charged. But your comment opens up some vital cracks, thank you! ❤️
Honestly, I do think women of colours' labour is taken more freely. And I think it isn't recognised how much harder it is to speak up and how much more we're risking when we do. But we live in the UK. I think class probably comes into it as well. Class and access to resources. Do you have the resources to make a challenge, when it will it literally cost you. Sometimes you do feel like a collectable who is useful. But that's just my pov.
This is the bit I keep thinking on: Do you have the resources to make a challenge, when it will literally cost you? That’s the gut of it, isn’t it?
There’s this ridiculous myth that “just say something” is easy. But for so many women, especially women of colour, it isn’t just about confidence. It’s about calculus. What do I lose if I do this? Who stops calling? Who freezes me out, even more?
And yes to the class layer. And access. And what you said about being “a collectable. Christ. Sometimes it feels like you’re invited in because you’re brilliant, but kept in the corner so no one has to deal with what that brilliance really means. Collected only to be ignored, snubbed, held back.
Thank you for putting it so clearly. 🙏🏻
You articulate it so amazingly well.
I’ll think on that and get back to you.