The Maternity Penalty is a Governance Failure

I had my first son at 19. 

I was working in the bank at the time, and if I’m honest, I wasn’t thinking about career progression, board presence, or bonuses. 

I was thinking about survival.

 Rent, childcare, sleep. In that order. 

I remember returning from maternity leave at the tender age of 20. The looks, the questions, the subtle judgment, the unspoken “Isn't she a bit young?” 

No one was asking me about my five-year plan. Fast forward a decade or so, and the tone changed.

Now it was admiration: “How did you become so successful whilst being so young and having a young family?” 

Trust me, it wasn’t in the plan. 

It was simply the cards I was dealt, combined with a very clear ambition not to stay where I started. 

Over time, as I became more senior and began mentoring younger women, one question kept cropping up. 

Babies or bonuses? 

As if we have no choice but to pick. 

Women from all over the world have asked me how I made that decision, desperate for answers on how to really have it all. 

Were there sacrifices? Absolutely. 

Some seasons I worked more than I mothered. In other seasons, I mothered more than I worked. There were years of constant recalibration and questioning. 

Babies or bonuses? 

It never features in the leadership framework. No one mentions it aloud in performance reviews, but it hums beneath ambition, maternity leave, and promotion decisions. 

Reaching senior leadership is not just about capability. 

For many women, it’s about endurance. 

As I climbed higher, breaking pay brackets and leading global teams, the higher I rose, the heavier it felt. 

Longer hours. 

More travel. 

More scrutiny. 

At home, I was still the emotional centre of my family. At work, I was expected to be composed, strategic, commercially sharp, and culturally aware at the same time. 

When you’re the only woman in the boardroom, not to mention the only Black woman, there is an added layer.

You are hyper-visible and invisible at the same time.

Visible enough to be recognised. Invisible when your idea is better shared by someone else.

As women, we navigate the so-called "harmless” jokes, the nicknames, and the drinking culture that sometimes crosses into uncomfortable territory, followed by an embarrassed apology the next morning that everyone pretends resolves the issue.

We recalibrate. We smile. We strive for excellence.

Because excellence is not optional.

When you are the only one, you don’t get to be average. You don’t get to have a bad day. You don’t get to be “developing.” You must be exceptional. Consistently. 

For many women, particularly women of colour, excellence becomes armour. 

You over-prepare. You overdeliver. You anticipate objections before they are spoken. Not because you lack confidence, but because you understand the margin for error is thinner.

I often get asked the age-old question, “Can women have it all?” How many times will we keep asking the same thing? My answer has always been the same: yes, but not all at once. Recently, though, I’ve started asking a different question. Do we want it all?

Because if I’m honest… I am exhausted from this mythology of “having it all.” What most people don't see is the candle burning from both ends; the challenge looks different depending on where you are on the ladder.

As a senior woman, the strain is heavy; the higher you climb, the more you carry.

More scrutiny. More visibility. More pressure to perform flawlessly. If you’re the only woman in the boardroom, the margin for error shrinks even further. As we climb the ladder, we are grateful for the position, anxious about our tone, excited about the impact of sending the ladder down, and late for school pickup... again! 

You don’t just represent yourself. You represent women. You represent diversity. You represent what we have been fighting for while still carrying the gendered responsibilities you already have.

You build a successful career, but your marriage grows increasingly distant. The exhaustion that refuses to lift despite a weekend off. The constant overstimulation from always being “on” at work, at home, in every space. 

Then there’s the quiet emergence of the “peri” you try to shake off the brain fog, the shortened fuse, the feeling that your body is transforming just as expectations reach their peak. You sense it coming, but there’s no room in the leadership framework to recognise it.

This is what I refer to as the 'Senior women tax'. I discuss this illusion in my upcoming new book, 'The Illusion of Inclusion'.

If I am considering this promotion now; will it be harder later? If I have a baby now, will I fall behind? If I wait, will biology catch up with me? We don’t talk enough about the psychological burden of that calculation. 

We have built leadership systems around uninterrupted, linear careers. Biology does not operate in straight lines. Young women are trying to plan their fertility, relationships, and caring responsibilities around promotion cycles. 

Senior women are quietly stepping back at the height of their careers because menopause clashes with leadership expectations built for constant output.

And we still frame this as individual choice. 

It is not just a choice. 

It has been deliberately designed.

Yes, progress has been achieved, but it has not been evenly spread. If gender parity still looks to take over a century, celebration alone is insufficient. 

This is not merely about ambition. It is about governance.

My core discipline and focus now are on Cultural governance, the intersection of governance and culture, holding executives and board members firmly accountable for fostering inclusive organisational cultures that connect culture to risk, inclusive practices, and leadership accountability. That is where 'Illume' sits, at that very intersection!

 Cultural governance in the boardroom determines:

Who progresses? Who stalls? Who leaves? Who feels they must choose? If motherhood derails progression, that indicates a design flaw. If senior women burn out at disproportionate rates, that indicates a design flaw. If young women feel forced to time their biology around bonus cycles, that indicates a design flaw.

When inclusion relies on goodwill, the senior women tax persists. When accountability is integrated into succession planning, remuneration, performance calibration, and leadership behaviour standards, the tax starts to decline.

The question is not whether women can lead.

The question is whether organisations are willing to redesign the systems that determine who stays long enough to. 

Until then, the calculation remains. 

Babies or bonuses?

And women at every stage, whether climbing or already at the top, will continue to bear the cost. There is no right or wrong time to focus on family or career... There is just your time. 

It's such a personal inflexion point, but we do need to keep working hard to dismantle the rules that prohibit us from making decisions that are right for us and instead make decisions based on promotion cycles. 

What I tell every woman around me is this: build your life in seasons, not through comparison. In some seasons, you will focus on ambition. In others, you will focus on family. Some seasons will require both, and you will surprise yourself with your capacity. Do not let the world rush you into decisions framed as either/or. Your path does not have to mirror anyone else’s. 

The goal is not to “have it all”. 

The goal is to build a life that feels whole on your terms.

I'm still learning and figuring out what that looks like for me each day..