Welcome to the Club – Just Leave Your Values at the Door

This week’s blog is personal. It’s a story from over a decade ago, but it’s been on my mind after a conversation with a colleague about those moments in business when you’re quietly expected to compromise.

2012, Luanda, Angola: The Dinner Invitation

Let’s rewind to 2012. Luanda, Angola. I was a director, but still the “junior” on a business trip with one of my seniors and the co-owner of the company. We’d landed a golden ticket: dinner at the home of the CEO of one of the Big Four consultancies. Not a hotel bar, not a stuffy boardroom. The CEO’s private home, inside a walled, guarded compound that could’ve been airlifted in from Beverly Hills. The kind of place where you hand over your ID at the gate to one of the many militaries, and the poverty outside those walls feels like another universe.

It was a career moment. The kind of invitation people brag about for years. But there was a "problem": I’d recently become vegetarian. I was proud of it. It mattered to me. But apparently, that was inconvenient.

“Can’t You Just Do It for the Team?”

That morning at breakfast, I turned to my boss and said, “Hey, did you let the CEO know I’m vegetarian? I’m honestly happy with a soup or a salad, but I can’t eat meat or fish. I just don’t want to be rude by not touching my food.”

He looked at me, clearly annoyed. “No, I didn’t say anything. It’s better not to complicate things. Can’t you just do it for the team? You used to eat meat until recently.”

That line—can’t you just do it for the team?—has echoed in my mind ever since.

My boss, who I respected and liked, looked at me like I was being difficult.

I wish I could say I wasn’t bothered, but I was furious. Not because of the dinner. Because of the principle. Why was it so easy for him to suggest I just erase my values for a few hours? Why was my comfort, my integrity, so disposable for the sake of a business dinner?

We argued. I stood my ground. “If you don’t tell them I’m vegetarian, I’m not coming. I’m not going to sit there, pick at a plate of meat, and pretend to be grateful. I’d rather be rude than betray myself.” He relented, but not before making it clear he thought I was being a pain.

We arrived. The CEO’s wife greeted us—vegetarian herself. The irony wasn’t lost on me. The evening turned into a kind of playful battleground: the women on one side, the men on the other, volleying jokes about food choices. If she hadn’t been there, I might have felt isolated. Instead, we were a united front.

The Real Message: “Fit In or Miss Out”

But here’s what stuck with me: even with the “right” outcome, the whole dinner was a reminder of how often business expects you to fold. To be agreeable. To “do it for the team.” To eat the damn steak, drink the wine, laugh at the joke, ignore the line that just got crossed. And the jokes didn’t stop—my dietary choices were the running theme, the safe target. Even with the CEO’s wife as an ally, it was clear: difference is tolerated, but never left alone.

And this wasn’t the only time. Early in my corporate career, I didn’t drink (still don't). But the pressure to “fit in” was relentless. “What do you mean you don’t drink?”—like I’d admitted to a crime. For a while, I gave in. Ordered something, pretended. Just to avoid the comments, the suspicion, the alienation. But it felt like self-betrayal every single time.

And the line that always stuck with me: “I don’t trust people who don’t drink.” Think about that for a second. What does that actually mean? That trust is built on conformity, not character? That your willingness to numb yourself with everyone else is a measure of your reliability? It’s an unspoken rule in so many industries: if you don’t play the game, you’re not one of us.

I am not wearing a mask.

Where Does It End?

But alcohol is just the start. I’ve seen (and heard) much worse. Drugs at after-parties, “just a little something to keep the energy up.” Women pressured to cross lines they never imagined, told to “do what it takes” for a client, no matter the cost. I know women who were expected to sleep with clients, people who felt forced to take drugs or cross all sorts of lines just to “do what it takes” in the name of business. The corporate world is full of these quiet, insidious demands. It starts with a glass of wine or a piece of meat. Where does it end?

Maybe to some, my stand over dinner seems small. But I know this: every time you say yes to something that violates your values, you make it easier to say yes the next time. And eventually, you don’t recognize yourself in the mirror.

Integrity Isn’t for Sale

If you’re in business, you’ll be tested. You’ll be told to “do it for the team,” for the deal, for your reputation, for your future. But here’s the truth: if you have to lose yourself to win, you’ve already lost.

I’m proud I held my ground. I’m proud I didn’t eat the steak, didn’t drink the wine, didn’t laugh along when I wanted to scream. I’m proud I made it clear—my integrity isn’t for sale, not for any client, any boss, any “opportunity.”

Because when the deal is done, when the dinner’s over, when the gate closes behind you, the only person you have to live with is yourself.

So next time someone tells you to “do it for the team,” ask yourself: What’s the real cost? And is it a price you’re willing to pay?

Love and truth,
Emma