Alright – so today we’ve got the honor of introducing you to Samantha Harris. We think you’ll enjoy our conversation, we’ve shared it below.

Hi Samantha, thanks for joining us today. Looking back, what’s an important lesson you learned at a prior job?

For over 27 years, I worked in a male-dominated environment within the same company for 33 years, and during that time I experienced what so many women live through but don’t always say out loud. I was talked over in meetings, my ideas were taken and repeated as if they were someone else’s, and I watched men get promoted into positions I had the experience for, only to then be asked to train them. I wasn’t treated as equal to my male counterparts in senior roles, yet I was consistently the one people came to for answers. I was trusted for my work, but not always respected for my position.

The most important lesson I learned from that experience was that no one was going to validate me the way I needed to validate myself. For a long time, I found myself second guessing what I said after I said it, asking myself if I explained it the right way, walking away from conversations replaying them in my head, and even physically pulling back, shrugging my shoulders, trying to make it easier for others to receive me. I wanted the men around me to understand me before I even took the time to understand myself. I would say “it is what it is” just to move on, just to keep the peace, even when it didn’t sit right with me. I learned how to soften my delivery so I wouldn’t be questioned, instead of standing firm in what I knew.

That environment forced me to face myself. I had to stop looking outside of me for agreement, approval, or someone to finally say I was right. I learned to own who I am, to honor myself by trusting myself, and to stand in what I know without needing everyone else to be comfortable with it. I stopped waiting to be understood and started making sure I understood myself first.

That shift changed everything. It changed how I spoke, how I showed up, and how I moved through the room. It also showed me that the real work was never about getting others to see me differently. It was about seeing myself clearly and moving from that place. That lesson is what I carry into my work now. It’s what allows me to support other women in recognizing that their voice, their presence, and their perspective are already valid, without waiting for permission or validation from anyone else.

Awesome – so before we get into the rest of our questions, can you briefly introduce yourself to our readers.

OMG, how did I get into this industry? Let me start at the beginning.
I worked for the same company for 33 years. Early in my career, one of the positions I held had rotating days off and rotating hours days, nights, evenings. I wanted change. I wanted more. And to be very honest, I wanted to make more money.
The company had a program to train employees in the trades. I applied. I passed the test. I got trained. I also earned my Class A CDL. And I want to be clear I didn’t just show up and ask them to hand me something. I earned it, just like any other human being.
I walked in ready to work. Not for anyone to tell me to sit down and look pretty but to actually do the work. Paving. Mechanical. Sprinkler fitting. Working on roofs. And when I say gardening, I don’t mean planting vegetables. I mean cutting down trees and laying sod, everything male employees did. I worked for a state and local government agency, and I was there to work.

But during those years in the trades, I faced a lot of challenges. The men I worked with questioned everything about me……. my identity, my motives, even my sexuality. As I grew braver and stronger, started asking for what I wanted, and demonstrated that I actually knew what I was doing across multiple areas of expertise, I still wasn’t getting the opportunities I had earned. We worked under a union bargaining agreement, and the supervisor at the time looked out for his people. I just want to let you know, men have a way of looking out for each other to make sure they get paid and stay ahead. I filed a complaint because it wasn’t right that opportunities to earn more were being handed to a select few who were part of the good old boys club.

They didn’t like that. They were angry. They ostracized me, and I felt lost and alone.
But I kept moving. I eventually left that facility and transferred to a new one. And by the time I retired, I had risen to a supervisory level higher than most of the men who had once treated me with disrespect.

Then I started watching the women coming in behind me. I saw them wanting more, working hard, facing the same challenges but not knowing how to use their voice. Not knowing they could ask for what they wanted. Not knowing they didn’t have to become a victim of microaggressions and stay silent about it. They started asking me questions. I started helping them with what I had learned over the years.
Seeing women excel especially in fields and positions that were never designed for them and get paid what they deserve became my goal. It became my purpose. That’s how SKH Solutions was born.

We often hear about learning lessons – but just as important is unlearning lessons. Have you ever had to unlearn a lesson?

One of the biggest lessons I had to unlearn was being a people pleaser which most women are taught to do from childhood. I had to unlearn seeking validation from people I thought were more qualified than me. I had to unlearn that I couldn’t have what I wanted, or that I had to give parts of myself I never chose to give.
And the backstory behind that unlearning is real and it’s personal.
I worked in male-dominated industries for over 33 years. I have a bad back now. Arthritis in my spine because I lifted more and pulled more than I needed to, just to prove I belonged. We were cutting soil, leveling taxiways to make sure runway surfaces were safe for incoming aircraft. FAA required. Real, physical, demanding work. And when the men were angry with me, they made sure I felt it more weight, more load, more to prove.
I wanted to be part of the team so badly that when they went out, I went. I ate more. I drank more. I gained 100 pounds. That’s what happens when you keep trying to fit into a space that was never designed for you.
The moment I’ll never forget is when I was in a hole twenty feet deep and they thought it was funny to sweep dirt in on me. A joke, they called it.
It was not until I stood in my own power that I realized it was never about them. It was about me not yet understanding that I didn’t need them to validate me, love me, or show me respect. I gave that to myself. I didn’t curl up in self-pity. I went to therapy. I hired a coach. I started journaling. I built the daily habit of reminding myself of my value and the fight stopped being the thing I woke up for.
I also had to learn that my leadership didn’t have to be visible only to the people directly in front of me. It could be recognized far beyond my immediate space. That’s part of what led to receiving the Martin Luther King Leadership Award from the organization I gave those 33 years to.
I don’t subscribe to resilience not the way it’s been sold to women. Resilience keeps women on the hamster wheel, bracing for the next hit, pushing fear down, and calling that strength. That’s not living. That’s surviving.
What I chose instead was to anchor myself. I learned to love me. I learned to trust me. And once I anchored myself, I stepped out of survival mode for good. I stopped waiting for the other shoe to drop. I started living a full, healthy life and standing in my truth. That is the path I now walk other women through.

We’d love to hear a story of resilience from your journey.

I want to be honest about something first I don’t subscribe to resilience, at least not the way it’s typically framed. Resilience has become the word we hand women to keep them on the hamster wheel bracing for the next hit, pushing through, and calling that strength. I lived that. And it almost broke me.
So instead of a story about resilience, let me tell you a story about anchoring myself.
I was twenty feet deep in a hole on a job site. The men I worked alongside the ones who were angry that I had filed a complaint about unfair opportunities thought it was funny to sweep dirt in on me. They laughed. Called it a joke. And in that moment I had a choice: armor up, prove I could take it, and keep going or start asking myself why I kept trying to earn belonging from people who had already decided I didn’t deserve it.
I chose to keep going that day. But the armoring up cost me. I lifted more than I needed to. I pulled more than I needed to. I ate more, drank more, gained 100 pounds all trying to fit into a space that was never designed for me. I now have arthritis in my spine because of it.
What changed everything wasn’t pushing through. It was stopping. It was going to therapy. Hiring a coach. Journaling. Building the daily practice of reminding myself of my own value until I no longer needed them to confirm it.
That’s when I stopped surviving and started living. That’s what I call anchoring yourself and that’s the story I think is worth telling.

Contact Info:

• Website: https://www.theskhsolutions.com
• Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/samanthakayeofficial/
• Linkedin: https://www.linkedin.com/in/samanthakayeharris/
• Youtube: https://www.youtube.com/@TheBreakRoomforWomeninTrades

Image Credits

Heather Gardner Owner of Little Peanut Gallery