Paying the Price for Workplace Emotions

Laura Frederick , a contracts expert I follow and admire, recently shared some great advice on dealing with unexpected tears (one's own, and those of others) in the workplace. Never at a loss for words myself, I can't resist weighing in with my own thoughts on the different ways lawyers (both men and women, but especially women) navigate emotional expression at work—but, astonishingly enough, I didn’t have enough room to fit all my wisdom into the LinkedIn text box--so here I am in blog mode.

A quick caveat: This isn't a scholarly piece—I don't presume to offer dispositive, data-driven conclusions on this important topic. Just my observations from the trenches, or as some might say, 'off the cuff.' Three decades in Big Law have shown me firsthand how displays of emotion can shape professional reputations for both women and men. And despite firms' efforts to prioritize wellness and reduce burnout, they remain inhospitable workplaces for gender-branded feelings—which is why colleagues are rarely the first people to turn to when things get rough.

Unsurprisingly, gender plays a significant role in how emotional responses are interpreted: A woman whose anger —no matter how justified—makes waves risks being labeled "emotional," "unstable," or "abrasive," maybe even a "ball-buster" (if she's as intimidating as a guy), while a man whose anger causes a stir is more likely to be referred to (often approvingly) as "passionate," "demanding," "scrappy, "a fighter", or "sharp-elbowed."

When it comes to tears, the gender dynamics flip but remain punishing: Women who cry at work risk being dismissed as "manipulative," "too emotional", "unprofessional," or "playing the woman card". But the men face even more brutal judgment, their tears seen as signs of being "weak," "unstable," "lacking leadership material," "soft", or "cracking under pressure"—in short, an unforgivable violation of gender expectations.

It's remarkable we manage to show up at all.

To be clear: I'm talking about routine emotional moments here—not extreme displays or situations that might signal deeper issues requiring professional intervention. Importantly, I am by no means suggesting that those dealing with clinical depression, severe anxiety, grief, burnout, or other serious mental health challenges should hide their struggles or avoid seeking workplace accommodations. These are medical conditions that may require professional intervention and appropriate workplace support.

I do advocate being prepared for emotional moments at work and having a strategy for coping with them—along with a healthy skepticism about treating the workplace as a venue for personal disclosure.

I've watched with appreciation as law firms (BigLaw included) have developed more comprehensive support systems and resources for their professionals. (ALM Media's Gina Passarella deserves particular credit here --for her vocal advocacy of mental health awareness in our profession and her crucial leadership in the BigLaw arena.) But at the same time, I advise my clients to maintain strong support systems outside the office—trusted family members, close friends, and therapists or coaches—and to turn first to them with their troubles. These supporters can help determine if and when to engage the firm about sensitive personal matters. (Note—when workplace disclosure becomes necessary, carefully document the context and any specific accommodations needed.)

The goal isn't to suffer in silence, but to make strategic choices about professional vulnerability.

Frequent emotional displays—whether anger or tears—present real risks to reputation, especially in large firms lacking the interpersonal flexibility of smaller shops. They can rapidly undermine your professional standing and skew the balance of power in your relationships with colleagues. And let's be clear—even accumulating significant originating-attorney credits won't fully protect you from the fallout. These displays can damage both your reputation and your confidence in ways that persist long after the moment passes.

I never cried openly at work (although a good private cry can be oddly refreshing)—and never with clients, opposing counsel, or other professional contacts. But I am indeed a heart-on-sleeve person and have had my moments over the years. Even though any tears arose from legitimate pressures and were witnessed only by close colleagues, I consistently regretted them. Though those present understood the personal context and were caring friends, I still faced the consequences of being labeled "emotional." Word travels—even kind words.

Be cautious. Work isn't home, and co-workers aren't family. Their capacity to protect you from professional fallout is limited, even with the best intentions, and even if they choose never to pass along their accounts of your behavior.

Even your closest allies may privately worry about your stability or judgment, concerns they may not voice to you.

Let me share a strategy that can be very useful:

Many women cry as a physiological response to anger, and I've found that framing an episode of weeping as "anger-driven"—even when that's not the whole story—can shift the narrative effectively. Describing unwanted tears as an expression of extreme frustration or genuine anger helps counter knee-jerk assumptions (more often made about women) about fear, insecurity, weakness, and immaturity. As Laura Frederick counsels, a steady, matter-of-fact response works best. Example: "Ignore the tears, please. I'm just so frustrated. This issue matters deeply, and we need to resolve it."

This resonates far more powerfully than silence or visible distress (and it's much better messaging than a weepy "I'm SO sorry"). It demonstrates self-possession and reinforces your professional stance. The subtext is clear: "I'm actually furious—get it together and address the issue, not my tears."

Remember, too, that workplace friendships, however genuine, can offer a false sense of security. The most empathetic colleague is incentivized to prioritize client service and firm interests over personal relationships. Their compassion may be real, but business is business. While there are rare colleagues who'll go to bat for you in rough situations, most can't be expected to shield you from professional consequences unless they can do so at minimal to no cost to themselves. The realities of law firm life make such protection a luxury few can afford, no matter how genuinely they care.

As for me--and those painful times when I felt my eyes well up-- I wish I'd gotten practical advice early on, instead of just telling my self-absorbed self to pull it together and move on when the overwhelm set in (boomers: did you know that "overwhelm" is now a noun?). So when tears come, have your response ready. Frame it as frustration or anger, add a touch of self-awareness ("sorry folks—my mother and I are both prodigious weepers—you can't always beat genes"), and keep the focus on the work.

Most importantly, know you're not the first, and won't be the last, to walk this path.