 |
| Checking in with the shop supervisor |
Oh, being a woman driver… it can be downright entertaining or wildly annoying depending on my mood that day.
Some of my favorite (and least favorite) stories come from
this exact setup:
Picture me sitting in your stereotypical folding chair next to my Z, sipping
water, fully suited up in fireproof gear (yes, the full sweaty get-up that most
drivers skip). I’m mid-convo with friends when a spectator or fellow driver
walks over and asks:
“Hey, is the guy who drives this Z around?”
I’m not even joking. Ask my teammates they get mistaken
for the driver all the time.
My father-in-law, who acts as my crew chief when my husband
is on track or away for work, gets it constantly. “Love your car, man! You’re
killing it out there!” Meanwhile, I’m standing right next to him in driving
shoes, oil-stained suit, still catching my breath from my last run… but sure,
must be the guy.
And it doesn’t stop once I’m behind the wheel.
With a helmet on, people can't tell. My ponytail doesn’t
give it away anymore since plenty of guys have long hair too. So someone walks up
to my window, asks for a ride-along, and as soon as they peek inside:
“Whoa… you’re a chick?!”
The unconscious bias is so baked in that I half-joke about
adding a giant vinyl sticker to my livery:
“YESSS I’M A CHICK!!”just to save us all the awkward moment.
 |
| Loaded up and ready to drift photo |
I get it. At most events, women are rare. At a recent 3-day show with over 100 drivers, there were two women. So statistically? Yeah, you walk up to a drift car in the pits, it probably belongs to a guy.
Even I sometimes assume that I’m just so used to being the only one. But even if I understand it, it doesn’t make it any less frustrating. Or isolating.
Sometimes people get awkward once they realize I’m the driver. Like they don’t know how to talk to me anymore. They were expecting to talk shop with a bro, and instead they got… well, me. A 5-foot-nothing mom with mandarin oranges in her cooler, not beers. And yeah, I’m definitely not your typical drifter stereotype.
🧠 Different People Learn
Differently
What really gets me sometimes is how even the instruction
style doesn’t always fit.
In drifting especially grassroots there’s this culture of “bully coaching.”
It’s loud, rough-around-the-edges feedback:
“You suck. Do better.”
“Why are you doing it that way?”
It’s all meant in good fun, and it works for some people. But not for everyone.
I already bully myself harder than anyone else could. I'm in
my head constantly, overthinking every missed line and late transition. From instructors, I need clarity, not chaos.
Confidence, not criticism. Kind words and encouragement and understanding go along
way for me. And I wonder if this mismatch, this loud, masculine way of
teaching is part of why more women don’t stick with drifting.
What if we created more learning spaces that accounted for
different communication styles? That said “You belong here” in more than just
words?
Because I know I’m not the only woman who’s felt like the
only one. And we deserve the same shot at growth without being shouted into a
corner.
💥 The Flip Side? Surprising
People Is Pretty Fun
Ready for Day 2 of
MMDC Nightshift
As frustrating as it can be, there’s
also something deeply satisfying about flipping people’s expectations
upside down.
There’s this little moment a pause, a
blink, a double-take when someone finally realizes I was the one
behind the wheel. You can see it in their eyes:
Wait… HER?
Yup. Me.
And let me tell you that moment of
realization? It never gets old.
It’s not about ego. It’s about disruption.
It’s about showing people that the world they think they know, the one where
only guys build fast cars and throw big angle, is outdated. It’s about proving
that grit, passion, and skill don’t care about your gender.
There’s also this electric pride when I
pull off something clean on track. A chase run right on my husbands door, a
big smoky entry, or a perfect transition and know that I earned it.
That I belong here, not because I’m trying to prove anything, but because I love
it. Because I worked for it.
And sometimes? The same people who
second-guessed me end up becoming some of my biggest supporters. They watch me
drive and realize I’m not a novelty. I’m a driver just like them.
When I hear, “Damn, I didn’t expect that
from you!”
I just smile and think, That’s the point.
Because the more women show up and
surprise people, the less surprising it becomes.
And honestly? I can’t wait for the day when no one blinks when they see a chick
hop out of the driver’s seat.
But until then…
I’ll keep showing up.
I’ll keep sending it.
And I’ll keep making people rethink what a “driver” looks like one burnout at
a time.
🏁 Final Thoughts
So what do I want people to know about being a woman in
drifting?
It’s annoying.
It’s funny.
It’s awkward.
It’s sometimes lonely.
But it’s also electric. Liberating. Life-affirming.
And 100% worth it.
Because every time one of us shows up, we’re making it less
weird for the next girl.
We’re reminding the world that skill doesn’t have a gender.
And maybe inspiring the next “chick” to grab a helmet, buckle up, and send it.
🧡 Got Stories? Let’s
Talk.
🎤 Ever been
underestimated, misjudged, or misidentified at the track?
Drop your story in the comments I want to hear it.
👯♀️ Know another badass
woman in motorsports? Tag her. Share this with her. Tell her she belongs.
🧰 Want help starting your
own drift journey? I’m always down to share what I’ve learned (and broken). DM
me.
Let’s build the kind of garage and the kind of grid where everyone has a space to wrench, learn, and shred. One awkward moment and
surprise clutch kick at a time.
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