I will never forget the evening I found out. I had spent a very long day on set. I was tired and wondered when I could leave, and a male colleague of mine joked that I still needed to hang around and wait for my last scene to be shot so that I could make the same amount of money as the boy in the cast by working more hours than he did. 

He used the words ‘gender pay gap,’ and I recall having heard that term before, but I had never really connected it to anything relevant. 

I remember my young head truly being unable to wrap itself around the fact that I might be—and had been—receiving less money than boys my age. I also started to worry for the women in my family and wonder about their finances. This concept just did not make sense to me, and I had a hard time believing it was true! It was the first time as an actress that I ever thought about my pay in a competitive way. I was never in it for the money, but I certainly was not in it to be worth less than others. Thinking back, I believe that was the moment from which I was interested in my exact pay and how acting deals would work. I have also worked in a job that prided itself on paying equally…and I found it a little bit embarrassing that this was something they had to be proud of and advertised themselves with.

I have heard men complain about theaters and productions that pay equally or hire 50:50. They don’t think it’s fair to hire a woman over a man ‘just because she is a woman.’ They wouldn’t think that perhaps the woman was hired because she is just as—or even more—qualified. I find it nothing less than embarrassing and shameful on their part.”

I had a ton of internship experience and a little bit of full-time job experience under my belt. I decided not to accept the offer, as I had a better offer on the table, so I referred a friend. He had no relevant experience, but was a good guy and a hard worker. He was offered $35,000. I was offered $28,000. 

I was fresh out of college, so I wasn’t entirely sure what to do. Now, I share my salary with my coworkers. Specifically, I had a coworker at a large corporate headquarters who wasn’t making what I was in the same role; he was a minority with an MBA. I had learned to negotiate prior to accepting the job this time, and he hadn’t. I helped him fight for a raise and a promotion.”

I was super sad when I learned my offer was that much lower. I experienced some self-pity for a second, then rolled up my sleeves and got to work researching the best way to negotiate. It felt too immature to just say, ‘Well, you’re paying him X…,’ so I had to make my case based on my merit. The extra frustrating part was that my internship projects had been better received and my GPA was higher. 

In the end, I only recouped half the amount of the gap. It still felt wrong, but again, I didn’t feel like I could just point my finger at my peer.”

I was actually starting to research what the industry standard title for my job description is, and it just so happened that around this time, the media salary spreadsheet was released. In it, people listed their gender identity, experience, title, job description, and salary. I saw that there was someone on the list who worked at my company and was listed as a digital editor—not a senior digital editor—and was making 25% more than I was. This person identified as male. Not only did he have a lower-level title than I did, he had less experience than I did. 

When I found out, I was shocked, I was angry at the company, and I was angry at myself for not advocating for more money when I started. Furthermore, I was insulted. It was a mix of emotions. I mean, I threw my phone. I always knew the gender pay gap was real, but to see it personally—and to see such an extreme difference—was mind-blowing to me.”