You don't have to do it alone

On Budget Day in the Netherlands ('Prinsjesdag'), receptions and networking events are traditionally held throughout The Hague. A few years ago, Anna found herself standing in a small café with several female alderwomen during one of those gatherings. The audience consisted mainly of men. As they talked, they reached the same conclusion: surely there could be another way. More accessible, more diverse, and with more room for genuine connection. Rather than leaving it at that, Anna joined forces with Hanneke Steen, Cathelijne Bouwkamp, and Eva Boswinkel to create a new event: the Prinsessenborrel.

Last year, the first edition welcomed around 65 women. This year, the event went viral. Registration had to be closed after 230 participants because the rooftop venue at Grote Markt had reached full capacity. The overwhelming enthusiasm highlights a clear demand for an event like this on a day already rich in tradition. It seems that a new tradition has been born.

With the Prinsessenborrel, the organisers wanted to create a welcoming space where women in politics and public administration could meet each other in an informal setting. Not only for an enjoyable evening, but also to build relationships that can make a meaningful difference in their professional lives. “When you know each other, it becomes much easier to reach out when you need support,” Anna explains. “We wanted to create a space where women feel welcome and realise: I’m not alone.”

She saw that goal come to life through the openness with which participants shared their experiences. Women spoke about moments when they were not taken seriously, faced sexist remarks, or found themselves questioning their own abilities. “The fact that women felt safe enough to share those stories was really special,” says Anna. “At the same time, I hope that in a few years, a safe space like this will no longer be necessary.”

One conversation in particular stayed with Anna after the event. A newly appointed alderwoman was listening to the experiences of women who had spent years working in public administration. Until that moment, she had assumed that certain comments and reactions reflected something about her own performance. Hearing the stories of others helped her realise that the behaviour she encountered was not about her at all.

“That insight really touched me,” Anna says. “You earned your place because you are good at what you do. Yet women sometimes end up doubting things they never should have to doubt. By sharing experiences, we can remind each other: this is not your fault.”

For Anna, this illustrates exactly why gatherings like these matter. They may not change the system overnight, but they can make a world of difference to someone who is questioning themselves in that moment.

If Anna could leave one message for the next generation of women, it would be this: “You are enough exactly as you are. You do not need to make yourself smaller or change who you are to be taken seriously. You belong here, and your place is already yours.”

The Prinsessenborrel demonstrates what can happen when women come together, share their experiences, and help one another stand stronger. Not by erasing differences, but by making them visible. Because sometimes, claiming your space begins with discovering that you do not have to create that space on your own.