'Here we go!' I said, psyching myself up as I stepped out of the sauna into the snow. It had been on my bucket list for ages: traveling to Lapland during the magical winter months. After years of heart-stopping Wim Hof ice baths and spontaneous naked-rolling-through-the-snow sessions in my back yard - my neighbors must love me! - I felt prepared for the cold. But as my wet feet started to literally stick to the snow in the - 23°C night, I realized I wasn't. There's cold, and there's COLD: the kind that is simply unimaginable.

For the longest time, women were only allowed in the Polar regions as names on maps. Literally. From Marguerite Bay to Adélie Land, brave, bearded men would name claimed land after their wives, who were expected to wait patiently at home, knitting sweaters for their adventurous husbands. When the legendary explorer Ernest Shackleton advertised his 1914 Antarctic expedition, three women applied, writing: “we do not see why men should have the glory, and women none, especially when there are women just as brave and capable as there are men.” How dare they! Shackleton quickly replied: 'there are no vacancies for the opposite sex on the expedition.' Roy Andrews, the president of the men-only Explorers Club voiced the opinion of the day when he stated: 'women are simply not adapted to exploration'.

Most female adventurers brave enough to travel to the Polar regions couldn't imagine it either: the terrifying cold and hardship that was waiting for them beyond the 'frostbite frontiers'. 'It's impossible', they were told. And: "This is NOT a place for women.' Dead set on breaking the ice ceiling, these explorers only became more determined. But determined to find what exactly? Well, that's the whole point of exploring: you'll discover it when you get there.

All my life, I've been mapping uncharted territories. Destined to become a housewife, I freed myself from the shackles of my social class to go to art school ('Impossible', I was told). After graduating cum laude, I left the high-brow world of art to start my own business (in 1993, there were only two female CEOs in the Fortune 500 list; NOT exactly a place for women). And through my female-empowering designs, I aimed to gain ground in the (ironically) male-dominated world of lingerie. All, unfamiliar territories. No maps or mentors to help me navigate. But, like the female outcasts conquering the Poles, I did have one thing that kept me warm and going: a burning passion.

There have always been women who refused to stand on the sidelines while history was being made. Queens and rebels, philosophers and pirates. These were the muses I would channel in order to grow: Queen Elizabeth for her strategic genius, Amelia Earhart for her daring flair, Frida Kahlo for her ability to turn pain into beauty. But when I'm looking for the courage to hurtle myself into the complete unknown, when I need a bit of recklessness, I think of the fearless female adventurers venturing into the coldest, most unforgiving places on earth. Extreme cold puts you to the test, as I was reminded that night in Lapland, my feet freezing to the ground. "Are you crazy enough to do this?" it asks you. "Is your dream big enough?" Gasping, you lose yourself for a moment. Fighting it is futile. You surrender. You transform. "Yes," you say, with rebooted purpose. "Bring it on."

So, dare to be reckless - go where no woman has gone before. Know that with every step you take, you are creating a map for the women coming after you. Dare to be shameless - proudly plant a flag for every milestone you reach. Tested by the ice, you have found your fire. And nothing can stop you now.