Glass Ceiling Effect on Women: How it Can Hold Us Back

When I was 28 years old, I was promoted to District Sales Manager.

I had a team.
A territory.
A 8-figure revenue goal.
A company car.
And the kind of momentum every ambitious young professional dreams of.

So when a distant family member said, “Congratulations on your promotion… have you ever heard of the glass ceiling? Because you just reached it,” I laughed. Not because it was funny, but because I genuinely thought it was a joke. A few seconds later, I realized he was serious.

And in that quiet moment, something inside me shifted.

Was the limit really in front of me…or inside me?

The Ceiling We’re Never Taught to See

Women and men enter the workforce in nearly equal numbers. The gap doesn’t begin at hiring, it begins at promotion. Based on LeanIn.Org and McKinsey & Company reports, for every 100 men promoted from entry-level to manager, only 87 women (and 82 women of color) are promoted, creating a "broken rung" that hinders women's advancement.

At every step up, fewer women are invited forward. Not because they aren’t capable, but because leadership still has a very specific “look” in many organizations. And that’s where the invisible weight begins.

The Invisible Weight Women Carry

Most women I work with aren’t short on ambition. They’re carrying a second shift. Not the dramatic kind. The quiet kind. The kind that happens before breakfast and after bedtime. The kind that keeps track of permission slips, aging parents, emotional temperature, calendar logistics, and who needs what next.

It’s not just time. It’s cognitive and emotional load. It’s holding everyone else’s world in your head while trying to build your own. And yet women still show up to work ready to lead.

This isn’t a story about women being overburdened. It’s a story about women being extraordinarily capable.

But capability without support turns into exhaustion. And exhaustion is what quietly shrinks ambition. That’s why this isn’t just a women’s issue. It’s a leadership issue. Because when workplaces recognize what women are carrying and when leadreship helps carry it too, something powerful happens:

Women get their bandwidth back. Men get better partners. Teams get stronger leaders.

That’s where strategy comes in.

Not to “fix” women. But to build environments where everyone gets to show up fully.

What Women Can Do When the Ceiling Starts to Appear

These tactics aren’t about working harder. They’re about working smarter and more visibly.

Narrate impact, not effort.

Instead of “I worked on this,” say “This helped us achieve ___.”

Early in my career, I thought long hours were the proof. If I stayed late, answered every email, carried every detail, surely leadership would notice.

They didn’t.

The turning point came when I stopped reporting activity and started reporting outcomes. Instead of saying, “I’ve been working on the partnership deck,” I said: “This proposal positions us to unlock a $50M multi-year commitment and open three new markets.”

At UNICEF, that shift changed everything. When I co-led the development of the Learning Passport, later recognized by TIME and PMI, I didn’t frame it as “a platform we built.” I framed it as: “A scalable digital learning solution reaching displaced children across borders at speed and scale.”

Impact language moves rooms. Effort language gets nods.

Speak early in meetings.

The first voice anchors the conversation.

There was a season when I would sit in executive meetings, fully prepared… and wait.

Wait for the right moment.
Wait to see what others thought.
Wait until I was 100% certain.

And then I noticed something: The first person who spoke shaped the tone, direction, and framing of the entire discussion.

So I experimented.

At a high-level strategy session at St. Jude Children's Research Hospital, I opened with: “Before we dive into tactics, can we align on what winning looks like here?”

The room shifted. The conversation sharpened. And suddenly I wasn’t reacting, I was driving and directing.

You don’t have to dominate. You just have to enter early enough to shape the narrative.

Build sponsors, not just supporters.

Mentors give advice. Sponsors create opportunity.

I’ve had incredible mentors in my life. They coached me. They challenged me. They made me better.

But sponsors? Sponsors changed my trajectory.

When I was growing a global corporate partnerships portfolio, one senior leader didn’t just give me feedback, she said in rooms I wasn’t in: “Erin should lead this.”

She attached my name to opportunity.

That’s how I went from managing relationships to helping architect a $20M philanthropic partnership. Not because I asked for it timidly, but because I built trust, delivered results, and made it easy for someone powerful to advocate for me.

Support feels good. Sponsorship builds careers.

Treat readiness as a decision, not a feeling.

If you meet 60–70% of the criteria, step in.

There was a role I almost didn’t apply for.

It felt bigger. More visible. Riskier.

I didn’t meet every single bullet point, but I met most of them. And more importantly? I could grow into the rest.

So I decided I was ready before I felt ready.

Has anyone else been there? I’m sure.

That role stretched me into rooms where I was the youngest, the only woman, or the only one asking harder questions. It accelerated my growth by years.

Men apply when they meet some of the criteria.
Women wait until they meet all of them.

Readiness isn’t a feeling.
It’s a choice backed by courage so put your big girl pants on and lean in. It pays off.

Separate bias from feedback.

Ask: Is this about my results or discomfort with my leadership style?

I once received feedback that I was “too direct.”

At first, it stung. I replayed it. Softened my tone. Second-guessed myself.

Then I looked at the results. The teams were performing. Revenue was growing. Partnerships were thriving.

The issue wasn’t performance.
It was comfort.

Women are often asked to dilute clarity so others feel at ease.

So I began asking a new question: “Is this feedback about my effectiveness or about someone’s expectation of how a woman should lead?”

That distinction changed how I processed a critique. It allowed me to grow without shrinking.

Design your time like a leader.

Protect thinking space, not just task time.

There was a period when my calendar looked impressive and felt exhausting. Back-to-back meetings. Zero white space. Constant responsiveness. I was burnt out before I even picked my kids up from school.

I realized:
I was managing tasks, not leading strategy.

So I started blocking “CEO Time,” even when I wasn’t the CEO. Two hours a week for nothing but thinking. No Slack. No email. Just clarity work.

Some of our biggest growth moves came from that protected space. New partnership models. Revenue expansion ideas. Culture resets.

Leaders don’t just execute.
They architect.

And architecture requires margin.

What Leadership Can Do to Be True Allies

This isn’t about being perfect. It’s about being intentional.

Create airtime.

Bring women back into conversations when they’re interrupted.

I’ve been mid-sentence when someone spoke over me as if I’d paused for permission. Early in my career, I stopped. I adjusted.

Then one day a senior leader calmly said, “I’d like to hear Erin finish her point.”

No drama. Just clarity.

That moment signaled: her voice matters here.

Strong allies protect space.

Give credit publicly.

Private praise is kind. Public credit builds careers.

After a major initiative succeeded, a leader could have called it a “team win.” Instead, she said:

“This doesn’t happen without her leadership. She architected this.”

One sentence elevated my colleague’s reputation instantly.

If you have the microphone, use it.

Invite women into decision rooms.
Not just execution meetings, strategy meetings.

There is a difference between being invited to implement a strategy and being invited to shape one.

I’ve experienced both.

In one season of my career, I was regularly brought in after decisions had already been made. My job? Operationalize. Deliver. Execute.

In another season, a leader said: “You should be in the room when we decide this.”

That shift, from executor to architect, is what prepared me to lead multimillion-dollar partnerships and eventually build my own firm.

If leadership only invites women into rooms where tasks are assigned, don’t be surprised when the strategic bench stays thin.

Access precedes advancement.

Share the invisible work. If women are organizing, mediating, smoothing, help carry it.

There is work inside organizations that never shows up on KPIs:

• Taking notes

• Planning team events

• Mediating personality conflict

• Onboarding new hires emotionally

• Smoothing over tension after tough meetings

In multiple executive teams I’ve served on, that labor quietly fell to women.

The breakthrough came when one male colleague said: “Let’s rotate who owns this.”

It was simple. It was fair.

Invisible labor is still labor.
And when only one group carries it, burnout becomes predictable.

Allyship sometimes looks like picking up the clipboard.

The Bathroom Moment

Early in my career, I was known for being clear. I set expectations. I gave honest feedback. I cared deeply about results.

One day, another woman pulled me aside and said, “Your tone is too much.” So I did what so many women do when they’re told they’re too much. I tried to become less.

I practiced speaking more softly. Literally in the bathroom. Trying to sound gentler. Less direct. More… acceptable.

And then it hit me. Would a man be doing this?

Can you imagine a guy in a button-down standing in a stall whisper-rehearsing his way into leadership?

Neither can I.

That was the day I stopped trying to shrink my voice and started using it with intention instead.

Clear isn’t cruel.
Direct isn’t dangerous.
And strong women don’t need volume controls.

And when you finally start showing up that way: fully, honestly, confidently, something quietly extraordinary happens. The room recalibrates around you. Your ideas don’t have to fight for space anymore. Your presence carries weight. Your leadership becomes undeniable. Your voice doesn’t just speak, it sets the direction.

Not everyone adjusts at the same pace and that’s okay. That’s the world catching up to who you’ve become.

Because when you rise, everything around you stretches with you.

Try it. Push the limit. Trust me. You will inadvertently help others to grow right along side of you.

Then work colleagues, conversations, initiatives, they transform.

Richer. More nuanced. Full of deeper relationships, real influence that asks more of you, in the best way.

That’s the part no one really prepares you for.

The becoming.

When Success Starts to Feel Bigger

I once had a boss who, over time, seemed unsettled by my growth. When things went well, the praise got quieter. When I succeeded, the feedback got louder. For a while, I wondered if I was doing something wrong.

Then I realized something that changed everything: It wasn’t about my performance. It was about her fear.

Sometimes people struggle when someone near them begins to expand, not because you’re failing, but because you’re outgrowing the space you were given. So instead of shrinking, I chose something different.

I stayed generous.
I stayed excellent.
And I refused to make myself smaller just to keep someone else comfortable.

That decision didn’t just shape my career. It taught me how to hold my own growth with grace.

What No One Tells You About Building a Career

Careers are built in moments most people barely notice. The moment you decide to speak even though your voice shakes. The email you finally send after rewriting it three times. The opportunity you say yes to before you feel perfectly ready.

That’s where your future quietly takes shape.

Those small choices, the brave ones, the honest ones, begin to add up. They change how people see you. They change how you see yourself.

And slowly, almost imperceptibly, the ceiling starts to lift. Not because you pushed harder…but because you trusted yourself more.

Which brings us to the part that truly changes everything.

What Actually Breaks Ceilings

Ceilings move when self-belief meets visibility.

When you let yourself be heard.
When you let yourself be seen.
When you stop waiting for permission and start acting like you belong.

That’s when doors open.That’s when rooms shift. That’s when leadership finds you.

And suddenly, what once felt out of reach feels… inevitable.

The Truth I Wish I’d Known at 28

Sometimes I think about that family member who told me I’d reached the glass ceiling at 28. I don’t think he meant to be cruel.
I think he was repeating a story he’d been taught about how far women get to go.

But here’s what I’ve learned since then: The ceiling wasn’t waiting for me at the top of the ladder. It was waiting in all the moments I almost doubted myself.

And every time I chose to speak. To step forward. To trust my judgment.

A little piece of it disappeared.

So if you’re standing in your own parking lot right now, proud of what you’ve earned, but quietly wondering how far you’re allowed to go, let me tell you something I wish I’d known back then:

You haven’t reached the ceiling.
You’ve just reached the place where you get to decide how high you rise.

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