Winter, Moscow, 2001. The room is smoky and cold. I push my chips all in. After knocking out nearly 100 players, I’ve made it to the final table. I’ve been patiently waiting for the right hand to make my move, watching my chip stack dwindle to almost nothing. It’s now or never. I glance across the table at him. He checks his cards, fidgets with his chips, and calls my bet. At that moment, I know I’ve got him.

Why Poker Is More Than Just a Game

Poker isn’t about luck; it’s about control. I should know. I played professional poker.

For women, poker offers something uniquely subversive. It’s a space where assumptions are currency, and being underestimated will provide an advantage. It’s a test of patience, a masterclass in reading people, and, yes, a tool for women who’ve spent their lives underestimated. Let them think you’re just there for the cocktails. And when you take all their chips, they won’t see it coming.

Poker isn’t just a game—it’s a test of mental strength, discipline, and a lesson in calculated risk. It teaches you to manage your nerves, bet big, and—most importantly—know when to fold. Poker has taught me so much about navigating life and my relationships.

Finding My Game: From Russia to the Final Table

In my early 40s, I found myself living in Moscow, Russia, untethered and trying to navigate life after leaving a high-stakes Disney career. The expat wife scene offered little more than dull small talk about cars, drivers, and school schedules—none of which lit me up. I needed something sharper—something that felt alive.

Enter Poker John, an Aussie who hosted private poker games in smoky, velvet-walled rooms filled with vodka-swilling expats and sharp Russian players. I felt out of place the moment I walked into that world, which was precisely why I stayed. What started as a distraction became a calling. I wasn’t just playing; I was winning. And every time a man at the table underestimated me, I let him.

Lesson One: Emotional Discipline – Why Women Are Built for Poker

Poker isn’t about the cards but the person across the table. And most of the time, those players are men. A raised eyebrow, a hesitation, a swirl of a drink—it all matters.

Since birth, women have been trained to read men and their behaviors. Experts at decoding non-verbal cues, we pick up on subtleties, notice patterns, and hear what goes unsaid. Over time, we’ve cultivated emotional intelligence that outpaces men’s, sharpening our ability to regulate emotions (most of the time), navigate relationships, and remain self-aware. We’ve seen enough to know what matters and are no longer here for the BS. This isn’t some easy-to-get skillset—it’s hard-earned wisdom acquired through decades of showing up and reading between the lines. As we lean into it, these skills become crucial assets.

Lesson Two: Patience Is Precision

In poker, the best hands are the ones you don’t play. Think about how this might play out in life? I might play three hands per hour during four hours of game time. That’s a lot of waiting. Waiting is the move no one respects until it’s too late. Desperate to act and prove themselves, men never see the slow play coming.

Patience isn’t passive; it’s strategic. It’s about timing – knowing when to fold, watch, and strike. Poker taught me that waiting isn’t wasting time; it’s building power.

Lena Evans, a world champion poker player, calls poker a “sport of the mind.” Like me, she left a high-powered career for what began as a fun distraction. Today, she’s a top-tier player and an advocate for women in poker, proving that patience isn’t just a virtue—it’s an edge.

Lesson Three: Breaking the Gender Barrier by Taking a Seat

By all accounts, poker is a man’s world. The cigar smoke, the chest-thumping bravado, and the secret hand-shake are all designed to make women feel unwelcome. But here’s the kicker: men think that all that swagger gives them an edge. It doesn’t. It’s what makes them easy to take down.

The game itself doesn’t discriminate between women and men, but the patriarchy running the show sure does. Women make up less than 6% of poker players, which stinks of the same exclusion we see in boardrooms and leadership roles. The boy’s club still decides who gets a seat at the table, whether it’s poker or power. And the irony? The very traits men wear like armor – aggression, cockiness, ego – are the ones that make them sloppy players.

Women? We observe. We calculate. Men swing big and loud, puffing themselves up with bluffs and bluster. Studies show that men bluff more often, but women? We know when to own the silence. That’s why, when women do sit at the table, we don’t just play—we thrive.

For me, poker wasn’t just about the cards; it was about claiming a seat where no one expected me. Every time I cashed in against someone who underestimated me, it wasn’t just a victory—it was proof. The dynamics shift the moment you stop waiting for permission to belong.

Lesson Four: Risk Isn’t Reckless. How Poker Taught Me To Trust My Gut

Every poker hand is a gamble, but it’s never accidental. Poker is math, psychology, and observation—not luck. It’s about making the best move with incomplete information.

Sometimes, you have no choice but to guess and accept the consequences without hating yourself. You must think clearly about your choices – pass, check, raise, or go all in. I learned to embrace risk in Moscow and my new life. Whether I’m bluffing at the table or making a life decision, I calculate the odds, trust my gut, and go all in when the moment feels right. Risks aren’t reckless when they’re deliberate.

Lesson Five: Silence Speaks Volumes

Active listening is an underrated skill, especially in a world that can’t stop talking. We love to fill silences with chatter, racing to make our points without pausing to hear what’s said. In a world that can’t stop talking, poker taught me to shut up and listen—not just to words but to pauses, tone, and what’s left unsaid.

It’s catching subtle shifts at the table: a glance that lingers too long or a hesitant bet. The less you talk, the more you learn. Silence isn’t passive—it’s influence.

Lesson Six: Know When to Fold

The most brutal move in poker and life is walking away. Folding a hand can feel like a failure, but it’s often the smartest play. There have been hands I loved—pairs of aces or kings—that I had to let go. The cards didn’t work for me. Just like some relationships or business, knowing when to cut your losses is a winning strategy. Walking away isn’t weakness; it’s wisdom.

The Final Hand: Poker and the Long Game

Ladies, it’s time to trade in your mahjong tiles and bingo cards—poker is calling. Gather your girls, pop some prosecco, and schedule a poker night. Why? Because poker is a mental boot camp disguised as fun.

If you don’t know where to start, check out Erin Lydon and her team at Poker Power. They’re on a mission to teach one million women to play poker, offering lessons in confidence, strategy, and empowerment.

For me, poker became a sport. Like all professional sports, playing at an elite level didn’t happen overnight—it took hundreds of hours of practice and plenty of hard losses. But the payoff? A life lesson in patience, calculated risk-taking, and unapologetic self-belief.

Would I play professionally again? Who knows. Life is full of tables, and the real skill isn’t just playing the cards you’re dealt—it’s choosing where to sit.

And when I do sit down, I’m all in.

What “Seat at the Table” have you been waiting for? And what’s stopping you from taking it?

When it the last time you have had to bluff – or fake it till you make it?