Why Women in STEM Keep Leaving and How to Stop It

Chat GPT generated image - 2025

"So what's it REALLY like to be a woman in this industry? I want to be a better ally and I've asked other people, but I don't think people really tell me like it is… What’s it actually like?"

I’ve wrestled with this blog for weeks. This is my third attempt to write something that hasn’t been written before. The truth is, all the experiences I could share are already out there. They’ve been dissected, discussed, consumed.

I’ve struggled to feel like I can add something new.

In these cases, it's best to feel your way through it.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

You start in a sunny place.

People are friendly. You’re grateful for the welcome.

But it’s a new space, and you’re not quite sure about the unspoken rules.

You want to do your best, so you ask for help.

The friendly faces seem confused. It’s as if no one has asked before.

So you tell yourself you’ll figure it out alone next time. You sit with the knowledge that you need help and you look around, wondering where everyone else learned what they know.

You ask about how they work and are met with puzzled looks, as if the answer is obvious.

You’re invited to a brainstorm.

The voices around the table are bright and confident. Ideas bounce back and forth. You wait for a moment to join in, but there’s never a pause that doesn’t feel like you’d be interrupting.

The ideas don’t quite make sense to you, and you know they wouldn’t work.

Eventually, you speak up. All eyes turn.

The friendly faces flash stormy.

No one’s mentioned this before.

You’re outvoted quickly. Two, then three people challenge you, demanding justification.

The conversation swells around you and you choose to stay quiet. Safer that way.

The sun dims behind a cloud.

Later, you have a great idea—one that could make the project stronger. You try again, using the approach you see around you and assume this is part of the culture.

This time the energy shifts instantly. Voices rise. The flow stops. The boss looks annoyed.

You hear the word “aggressive” murmured somewhere behind you.

You make a mental note to be “sunnier.” It’s easier.

You look for another way to contribute without friction — something constructive. But when you ask others, they shrug. No one else has needed to figure this out.

You’ve said something you shouldn’t have, and you and everyone around you knows it.

You start second-guessing yourself. You keep your head down and work harder.

You deliver exactly what was asked. Still, the boss questions why you didn’t reach their conclusion.

You’re confused—should you bring your own ideas or just do the task? Either way you're in the wrong.

You almost ask your colleagues but stop yourself. No one else seems to have this problem.

You work overtime for a big client. The presentation deck is all yours, and it’s good. The sunny faces return.

But in the meeting, the client greets everyone with a handshake, except you. It seems to be awkward.

The conversation flows, and the client asks only you for a coffee, an assumption made on the reason for your presence.

When you return, the client is making a derogatory joke about his wife. A couple of people laugh. The rest stay silent. No one meets your eyes.

The introductions begin and your turn is skipped. You have to take a moment to introduce yourself also and the frustration in your voice is noticable. Eyebrows are raised.

You start to present your work, but you’re cut off, your boss impatient with your approach. The meeting continues without your input. The client praises your boss. No one corrects him.

You take notes because it helps you stay focused but you look around and notice that no one else is writing.... your boss asks you to circulate what you've written.

The sun is gone now, it's only clouds.

You work harder still. The moments to collaborate are tense the more you stand your ground to be heard. You can't help to raise your voice a little and your tone isn't as you liked it. You feel defensive.

You have to switch to high necklines and looser clothes because of the glances you’ve started to notice. The glances left you feeling uneasy and the little comments build up over time. It's just easier to wear turtle necks and all black clothing instead.

The peers who once shared your uncertainty (but ony down the pub) now have bigger projects.

A new hire takes the role you’d been aiming for. They’ve worked with your boss before. You were on maternity leave when the job was advertised and you weren't considered.

You are furious and want to consider something elsewhere, but part-time roles like yours are rare in this industry. You've lost your choice for the next few years.

The clouds grow darker and heavier

You ask for more responsibility. The answer: Opportunities are given to those who can “commit.” It doesn't seem to count when you log back on after dinnertime to read and reply to emails until 9pm, every day.

When the kids are older, you are ready and able to return to full-time work. But the option’s gone and it turns out it was never guaranteed in the first place.

You watch others move up while you’re left behind, aware of the eye rolls when the nursery calls you instead of your partner and you have to make another trip to the doctor.

Social events are short-notice, evenings only. You’re told you “really should come along” even though they know you can’t. The last train home is at 8 p.m. The summer event is a golf day... you weren't invited, and the annual tradition has been running for years.

Then the redundancies come. Small business equals no protocol. You’re told not to come back tomorrow. Restructure, they say but you're the only one impacted. The senior management team returns to an all-male lineup.

It's dark now.

There's no light and there are no sunny or stormy faces around you.

You feel like you're trapped in a corner, sat on the floor, with your knees at your chest.

You make yourself as small as you feel. Your confidence is in tatters.

Your inbox is full of condolences, it's a really bad period for job hunting isn't it? You feel nervous and embarrassed to reach out for help. It's very clear to you that there are consequences to that and you stopped asking long ago.

In the darkness, there's something else, a feeling of danger and threat. It lives in the people you know, and in those you don't.

A good deed here is cancelled out by an unsupported opportunity beyond your capabilities. Allyship is a word often heard, but a long term commitment to support seems heavy and.... unnecessary. Things are fine as they are, right? And women's rights have gone too far now.

It's so unclear now who actually has your back and you've been burned so many times.

You hear of another story of someone in your network put in their place, pushed out, sidelined.

You feel hopeless, and scared.

Every time, a reminder of where others expect you to be, and stay.

To job hunt feels like a lost cause. Maybe you can just take something local and part time.

You don't want anyone to shine a light on you, in case you disappoint.

You don't want a hand to pull you back up, you're simply not ready and too damn scared You don't want a cushion under you, to keep you comfortable in that small state

You don't want someone to tell you where you should be, especially with your experience

You want to be understood, feel enough and feel held in a safe space.

It sounds simple, yet simultaneously out of reach.

Would YOU stay?

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These aren’t abstract stories. They’re real.

They’re mine.

They belong to women I know.

They’re the lived experiences of women in stem.

If this shocks you, that’s empathy beginning.

If you feel that nothing here is familiar, that’s privilege.

If you’re angry, it’s not at me—it’s because you know this is true.

What to do next to support women in stem

1) Feeling that empathy, learn more about the small things to become a better ally, we need you!

2) Need some confidence tips now to get you back on track? Read about how to flip the script on imposter syndrome.

3) Constantly butting heads with your manager, here's my top tips of managing up

4) Want some more help about small changes in business and culture that make a real difference? Here's my lessons learned from a 20+ year career as a woman in engineering

5) If you’re carrying something similar and want space to think it through, I offer a short 30-minute coaching taster you can book anytime.

The women don’t need fixing. The system does.

Did the above resonate with you? Let me know what helped you in the comments below.