I know women who start and end almost every sentence with the word sorry. "I'm sorry but I have to ask you ..." "I'm sorry to do this but ..." or "... and I'm sorry about that." It's an attempt to form a connection with another person, even though for the most part, the other person doesn't hear us.

When we use sorry, we're seldom referring to something we did wrong. If that were the case, rather than mumble a weak apology, we should make a strong affirmative statement, one that explains why the error occurred, or how we can make up for it, or how to prevent it from happening again. When I'm really and truly sorry about something I did, I say that I deeply regret my actions, that I am truly concerned-but I never say, "I'm sorry."

When a guy hears sorry, he infers that you've made a mistake. Say your boss tells you how an a.s.sociate ruined a sale and the company lost a contract. You search your mind for something soothing to say and end up with, "I'm sorry." You think you're being nice. But he hears you apologizing for doing something wrong. "What's she sorry about?" he wonders. "She had nothing to do with it. Or did she?"

Saying that you are sorry has nothing to do with your ability to empathize with another person's misfortune. In fact, it has so little meaning that it almost implies that you are indifferent. No woman could say "I'm sorry" as much as she does and feel that much pain and still be a functioning human being.

6

Aggressive (It's Not a.s.sertive).

Here is a common scenario: The boss is trying to fill an important position. In the interview, a male applicant boasts about his abilities, explains why he's the best person for the job, and urges the boss to pick him. After the man leaves, the boss compliments him by calling him aggressive.

A woman comes in and similarly boasts about herself, says she's the obvious choice, and pushes for a decision to be made soon. The boss finds her domineering, overbearing, difficult. After she leaves, the boss criticizes her by calling her aggressive.

Aggressive is a complex word at the office: When a guy applies the word aggressive to another man, he means that he's bold and forceful, that he wants to win, that he has the strength and capabilities to achieve his goal. But when guys use the word to describe women, the definition changes. The woman becomes pushy, argumentative, domineering.

For a woman, aggressive implies hostility, meanness, ruthlessness, for both men and women. It's about self rather than ego. It's about conquering other people, rather than compromising with them.

In brief: Men reserve the positive connotations of the word for themselves; they apply the negative ones to us. They have relegated to us the word a.s.sertive, which is what we are allowed to be when we want to forge ahead. It's a weak runner-up.

If men need to be aggressive to succeed, why shouldn't we be allowed to be aggressive, too? By allowing the positive connotation of the word to apply only to men, we're taking away our potential power.

7

Fight (It's Not a Pretty Word).

Jacob and Jeanne worked at the same large corporation for many years. They started their careers at about the same time, and both ended up as vice presidents.

Like any other successful businessperson, Jacob's career has been laden with ups and downs, and he recently found himself in a particularly vulnerable political position. But he was confident he'd survive as he always had in the past until, when he least expected it, Jeanne attacked him from behind.

The reason? The two had engaged in a bitter turf war almost a decade earlier, one which Jeanne had been reluctant to enter. It became clear that Jacob was determined to duke it out, and in the end, he triumphed.

Once defeated, Jeanne seemed to acquiesce, and the former combatants returned peaceably to their work. But the truth was that Jeanne had never stopped plotting against Jacob. Finally, she found a way to hurt him irreparably.

Jacob had no idea the battle was still raging.

Attack. War. Battle. To a man, there's something-how else to put it?-manly in a good fight, something strong, dignified, something that has rules. You don't hit below the belt. You don't shoot someone in the back. You don't slug someone who's wearing gla.s.ses.

Men like to fight. They start fighting with each other when they're young, and they keep fighting until there's no fight left in them. Men fight while they're playing baseball, basketball, even while wearing the skates and heavy uniforms of hockey (Rodney Dangerfield's great line: The other night I went to a fight and a hockey game broke out). I know a nursing home attendant who says she has to break up fistfights between two octogenarians over rocking-s.p.a.ce on the front porch.

Women avoid fighting at all costs. Every now and then I may have seen two girls slapping at each other, but for the most part, I can't ever remember seeing females brawling. Nor do I ever recall seeing girls fighting while playing a game. If you lost, if you were angry, the worst you did was huff and puff and storm away. If you were really mean, you took the ball or the board game with you.

But out-and-out fighting? Hardly. What if you hurt yourself? A boy with a black eye looks tough. A girl looks preternatural.

Because we don't see fighting as a sport, the concept of a fair fight is an oxymoron. A fight shouldn't take place. If it does, the rules go out the window. When a mother cat battles to save her kittens, there's no restraint in her behavior. She does whatever she can, including going in for the kill if necessary.

To a man, a fight is part of the game. One of you wins, one of you loses, and then the winner buys the loser a drink. You have to leave your opponent breathing, so you can play again.

Remember the next time you get into a fight with a male a.s.sociate, while you're probably thinking of all-out warfare, he's only thinking of a temporary skirmish. And he's a lot more likely to enjoy the process than you are, which is all the more reason for you to get it over with quickly.

8

Game (a.k.a.: Fun).

Maybe it's because game is a loaded word when it's applied to relationships. For example, "I just couldn't date Joey anymore. He was so into games." Maybe it's because we don't think we're as good at games as men. Maybe we feel that if we play a game with a man, we're expected to lose. But when we hear the word game, we get a little nervous.

Men are more likely to smile when they hear the word game. The word means something fun. When they play a game, they think they're going to win. What's not to like?

Here's a guy's secret: No one becomes a CEO by going through the motions. If you can't keep finding ways to maintain your enthusiasm for your job, you're going to get flat.

That's why guys have turned business into a game. It helps them devise new plays, invent new tactics, create new strategies to trounce their opponents. It allows them to have fun while they work.

I experience this phenomenon at work with my bookers and producers. Because they understand that business is a game, the truly excellent ones accept difficult challenges as part of their job description. They have fun dreaming up ways to do the completely impossible, they'll book the people no one else ever dreamed would be willing to appear on network television.

Thinking of work as a game is the best way to keep firm boundaries between you and your job. I know far too many women who are infuriated by their boss, or are irritated with a new colleague, or are haunted by an upcoming project, and who are unable to get away from the office because they can't stop wallowing in their unhappiness.

If you become mired in a tough situation, don't turn it into an emotional crisis. Instead, whenever you lose the contract or you don't get the promotion, funnel that unhappy energy into something more constructive, such as a new game plan that will lead you to success.

And remember that all games have a specific time limit. When they're over, they're over. So what if you lost? As soon as the next game starts, everyone is a possible victor once again. If you keep worrying about what went wrong with the last sale, you won't be ready for the next one.

9

Gla.s.s Ceiling (Their Phrase, Not Ours).

A friend tells this story about her childhood. She, her older brother, and his friends would be playing cowboys and Indians, or cops and robbers. Most often she was the only girl. During the game, whenever she was doing well, her brother would shout out-"You're not allowed to go into the Forbidden Zone!" My friend never knew what the Forbidden Zone was, or why it appeared, but it always ruined her chances of winning. Because my friend was thrilled that the boys let her play, she lived with the rule; it was better than playing alone.

These days I'm often asked about the gla.s.s ceiling, and I want to shout, "There's no such thing as the Forbidden Zone!"

After all, isn't it possible the gla.s.s ceiling-some transparent barrier at the top of each corporation through which women can't pa.s.s-is purely a male invention? Do we accept it as a reality just because there are no women in the uppermost reaches? Maybe it's just a natural resting point we haven't figured out how to get beyond.

In the past women have broken through many of these "ceilings" and each time we do, the ceiling seems to have moved up. Once it was just above the vice president's job, then the executive vice president's, then the president's. Now it's hovering right below the chairman's. You could use this metaphor until every job in America is held by a woman.

The problem with the concept of the gla.s.s ceiling is it gives men an excuse for their failure to treat women as equals. What game have you ever played in which your opponent says you're not allowed to win-and you believe him?

It is true that many of us get stopped at a certain point on the way up, but we can't just blame this ceiling. Many complex factors are involved.

Factor one: We have a desire for a life of balance. For example, we're often afraid that if we get to the top, we won't have enough time for the rest of our lives. Another myth. Plenty of middle managers work harder than CEOs. There's no more nor less balance at the pinnacle than halfway up the slope.

Factor two: Because we don't tend to take the positions that lead to the top, because we're less often the rainmakers and more often in those pink-collar jobs, there aren't enough of us sitting in the places that traditionally springboard to CEO. Says Catalyst, the leading not-for-profit organization dealing with women's issues in business, "Only 6.8 percent of all corporate line officers are women ... if [we had to name] the biggest barrier to women's advancement, that would be it." In other words, more of us have to go after these rainmaking and line positions.

Factor three: a lack of self-confidence. We have to remember that both "I can" and "I can't" are true statements. If you believe you can, you can. If you believe you can't, you can't. By buying into the gla.s.s-ceiling concept, or believing that you won't get the promotion, you make an "I can't" statement. Once you move yourself from the world of possibility into the world of impossibility, you make your worst fears come true. You become more cautious, more wary, more alert. Instead of being filled with potential, you're filled with doubt.

Why perpetrate a myth that implies you are the person-who's-done- to instead of the person-who's-doing? Why not just tell your colleagues (male and female alike) there's no such thing as a gla.s.s ceiling and that you intend to prove it? Imagine if Columbus had believed the world was flat? Someday they'll say about all the female CEOs of Fortune 500 companies: Imagine if they had bought into that gla.s.s-ceiling myth.

Note: Every day it seems I hear about another woman leaving corporate America to go into business for herself. I can certainly understand some of the reasons behind this trend in light of all the difficulties women must face, from the conviction we can't succeed as easily as a man to our need to tend to our families.

But I would ask women to think carefully before they quit. Once you leave the corporate arena, you don't have the same impact on big business, which in turn means you don't have the same impact on the world. If we are going to make our marketing and our products more female and more family-friendly, we need to be part of the team creating them. It's important that we inhabit the places of power in as many positions as possible.

Leaving doesn't help those of us left behind. It doesn't help change the basic way in which big business is done. Large corporations shape our lives. They produce the entertainment shows that we decry, the foods that we deem unhealthy, the advertis.e.m.e.nts that we find degrading. The more we're around to make key decisions, the more they will go our way.

10

Future (Then and Now).

Some years ago I was in a planning meeting for a not-for-profit organization. We had several important decisions to make about the direction we should take, and I was noticing that a divide had sprung up between the men and women after each issue was discussed.

I had a thought. "When we're talking about 'the future' here," I asked, "what are we talking about?"

The men all said, sometime in the next year. The women all said, many years from now. I was intrigued.

In a meeting at my office the next day, I went around the room asking people to define what the word future meant to them. Without exception, the men said six months to a year, the women said ten to fifty years.

Women think of the future in biological human terms. It's what will happen to us over the years, as well as what will happen to our children and our grandchildren. The dollhouse doesn't end because you stop playing with it. Like the woman in my business course who wanted to extend her game of jacks as long as possible, the most satisfying games are the ones that can be forever prolonged.

Guys' games are time-limited. At some point, when the clock sounds, or when the winner becomes apparent, it's over. End of future. Another future begins with another game.

Women can be great conceptual thinkers. In meetings, we bring up all the possible outcomes, we look at the big picture, we see it all. If no one stops us, we can suggest so many options that a decision becomes impossible. That way we can keep the game going forever.

This approach can irritate the men in the room, who aren't playing our game, and don't want to. If they need a decision now, they may not want to hear what may happen five years hence. They can deal with the complications later. Action has to be taken, now.

There is nothing wrong with thinking of the future as four decades away, unless your boss is thinking four weeks. You don't need to change your conceptual framework. Just stay in the same time zone as the men around you when decisions are being made.

HOW TO ENTER AND EXIT THE GAME.

My idea of superwoman is someone who scrubs her own floors.

BETTE MIDLER, SINGER AND ACTRESS.

SHE CLEANS THE HOUSE, SHE WASHES THE CAR, she reads to her children, she brings the dog to the vet, she takes care of her mother, she cooks the meals, she jogs ten miles a week, she runs a profitable division, she manages her staff, she manages her marriage, she manages the household. She does it all.

No, she doesn't.

We all thought we were supposed to do it all. And some of us can do most of it very well. But I have yet to meet the superwoman who can do everything perfectly. There will always be something missing.

Usually, that something is you. If you're giving your all to everyone in your life, you seldom have the time to care for yourself.

Now that at least one generation of women has learned this lesson, we're beginning to define our limits and boundaries more realistically. There's nothing wrong with choosing to focus on only one part of your life at a time. Maybe you're single, or married and childless, and you want to give your all to your job. Fine. Maybe you've decided to take several years off to have children. Also fine. This is not a cop-out. This is an informed choice.

Many women deride the "mommy track" because it implies that once you slow down to raise a family, you have no chance of getting back on the team. It's either Mommy or vice president, but not both.

But I say it can be both-even if you're off the track for several years. I've known many successful women who put all their energy into their children when they were young, and then reentered the workplace, enhanced and more successful than ever.

In other words, you don't get just one turn on the game board: Your career can be sequential as easily as it can be simultaneous.

Here is another surprise: You learn an enormous amount while doing all the things connoted by that loaded word, ch.o.r.es.

Take my life. When I was young, I had wonderful jobs working for three different congressmen. After that I moved over to the White House's legal counsel's office to draft civil rights legislation. I a.s.sumed politics was my life's career.

Then I fell in love with a White House television reporter, and we married. When CBS appointed him their civil-rights correspondent, I, like a good wife, left my career in Washington, D.C., and moved with him to his new job in Atlanta.

Since I'd worked in the White House civil-rights office, I was familiar with the stories my husband was covering. And because I had nothing else to do, I trailed along beside him. CBS had strict antinepotism rules at the time, so there was no chance they could hire me. But one of the ABC reporters, knowing my background, offered me a job at the station. I accepted, and now had a career in television.

Then, two weeks before our first child was due, my husband was appointed CBS's Moscow bureau chief. Once again, my choice was to go wherever my husband went. And once again, CBS wouldn't hire me, but I ended up running the bureau de facto.

Three years later we were back in Atlanta, now with two sons. While I did a little work at ABC, I became pregnant with my third child.

From 1971 to 1978 I took care of our kids, but I also took the occasional odd job, volunteered for a great deal of not-for-profit work, and started a small consulting company out of my kitchen-literally. I came to CNN only when my friends from ABC, who were among CNN's first anchors, asked me to be an editorial producer.

This means I had a period of ten years between full-time jobs. It doesn't mean that my mind went to waste. In fact, I always tell women that everything I ever needed to know about business I learned driving the car pool.

Think about it. Having six kids in one car teaches you how to negotiate: If all of them want a back window seat, you need the brains to work out a solution, unless you don't mind driving to school with a bunch of screaming six-year-olds. This isn't dissimilar from being in the middle of a work crisis while everyone is spinning his or her wheels and has to be quieted down.

You want your yard mowed every week for a low price? That's a wage transaction. You need someone reliable to clean your house? That's a hiring skill. Someone has to take care of your kids? That's learning how to delegate. Buying the groceries on a budget teaches fiscal responsibility. Dealing with an insurance company after an accident prepares you for financial negotiations. Knowing how and when to send thank-you notes teaches you the importance of making your staff feel appreciated. And pulling off a dinner party for twelve on four hours notice takes as much coordination as anything I've ever done at CNN.

Not only are these tasks similar to those you do at the office, they're often performed under greater pressure because of the a.s.sumption that household ch.o.r.es require no real skills-society has diminished these jobs so thoroughly that we seldom acknowledge the tangible talents they demand.

(According to a recent study by Edelman Financial Services, as cook, financial manager, psychologist, and bus driver, American mothers should pull in $508,700 per year, based on average U.S. salaries.) You don't have to live your life as though you only have one chance. Do as much as you can, or want-and in your own time frame. But remember: If you try to do it all, it won't all be perfect.

Recently I gave a speech to a group of women I had addressed five years earlier. After it was over, one of the women, Jennifer, reminded me that she had asked for some personal advice the last time we had met: Her career had been going very well, but she'd just given birth to her second child and wanted to work part-time so she could stay at home.

The problem was that Jennifer had a compet.i.tor-a childless woman who Jennifer was convinced would take her job if she stepped off the track. She reminded me that I had told her you can always get a new job, but that you can't get new children.