Recently, I was asked to speak at my alma mater. It was an honor and a privilege, and of course, my parents were were so proud. My mom begged to invite all her friends. In fact, I had been given an award, Alumni Entrepreneur of the Year.

It was Homecoming Weekend and the campus was buzzing with excitement. After much deliberation in a Nordstrom’s dressing room, I had decided to wear a tight white power dress. I felt a bit overdressed and formal compared to my normal style, but the second I zipped that thing up, my mother swooned and I knew I had to wear it – for her sake.

I’ll mention that I went to a fairly conservative college, but that really doesn’t alter the story because it could have happened anywhere. This is a place that taught me that I have a voice and gave me the strongest girl tribe I could fathom — heck, they asked me to come and speak on female entrepreneurship. Again, to be clear, this story isn’t meant to take away from the amazing values and tenacity of the institution. It really could have happened on any stage, at any place.

My speech was focused on a couple things that I’d learned from my story as a female entrepreneur:

1. There needs to be more of us.
2. The trials, slights, adversity that women face in this space occur daily.
3. More women need to be on stage, giving speeches.

Well, I arrived an hour early like any good speaker and a young technician approached me to get me set up. He looked me over and said,  “That’s what you’re wearing? Does the dress have pockets? There’s nothing to clip the microphone to…you’ll have to change or wear a belt.”

Without giving me a moment to respond, he had ran off to find me a belt. A belt!

I don’t know what I would have said if he hadn’t run off. I was speechless.

In my head I’m thinking, “Has he never mic’d someone in a dress before? Does a microphone not clip to a dress? If one can mic up a Kardashian, how in the world is MY dress a problem?”

While he was gone, the gravity of what was happening sunk in. Excuse me, did he just outfit-shame me? Did he just make me feel like it was inappropriate to wear a dress on stage? Was I the first person in a dress he had ever mic’d up? There’s no way.

I turned to a young woman standing next to me, she could see the confusion and rage that was crossing my face. “Don’t worry,” she said, “He is just scared to touch your bra.  I’ll help you get hooked up. I am the only woman that works here in the tech department — this stuff happens all the time.

Another moment of women helping women. Thank you, sister.

Then Mr. Scared-of-Bras returns, thrusting a black belt from some raincoat in my direction. “Here, wear this”, he said.

“There’s no way I am wearing that,” I snorted.

He threw up his hands and gave me that all too familiar look. The one that says without saying, ““Whoa, this chick is getting huffy.” The one that reminds you that when a man says ‘No,’ he is being assertive, yet when a woman says ‘No,” she is being difficult.

“C’mon, we can figure this out”, I said, “Let’s see this mic…it’s gotta have a clip or something.” Within moments I had the dumb mic clipped to the top of my dress and we were good to go.

My blood was boiling.

Is this how all women feel when they are about to walk on stage? Is this why I don’t see enough of us in front of an audience, standing tall, speaking our message? Because we’re told  we look different, like we’ve done something wrong?

My girlfriend and college roommate was the one coordinating the event. She happened to walk by backstage and I quickly shared the story, joking that I should incorporate it into my speech. I mean it was so fitting.

“Are there any female engineers or designers in the room?”, I would say. “Great, can someone design a microphone that fits a dress?” I felt like it would get a good laugh.

Her response was immediate. “This happens all the time around here. Please say something.”

Unfortunately, my speech was so committed to memory that I forgot to mention the story on stage. Not that I wanted to call the guy out — I wouldn’t do that —  but I wanted to prove the point about how daily this struggle is. If more women were in leadership positions, this wouldn’t happen, but the truth of it is:

• Female entrepreneurs only make up 7% of venture-backed companies
• Only 10% of Fortune 500 companies have female leadership
• And 20% of Congress is female

After laying out these sobering facts, I shared about the times my business model was called ‘cute’, or how I was often only introduced to investors that “invest in female companies” as if we are a special sub- species. I talked about how the  #metoo movement impacted my office and Silicon Valley, well before the movement hit Hollywood.

I challenged women in the audience not to take a backseat. Please don’t. Yes, we have made progress, and yes, things are changing but we sure aren’t there yet. I talked about my love for that campus, for what it and its people had given me. I’d love to come back again someday and speak again, but I do not want to come back to  to share the same message. I want the daughters of tomorrow to to say, “Equal pay, Kaitlyn? What’s that?”

Ladies, we are close.. Let’s keep going. Let’s grab hands and cross the finish line of this race.  Let’s do it for our daughters so they’re never outfit-shamed for wearing a fabulous white dress.