The Glass Ceiling Wasn't My Problem. Staying Was.

I've hit a few glass ceilings in my career.

Some were obvious. Others took me years to recognize.

Sometimes it was because I was a woman working in a male-dominated industry. Sometimes it was because I wasn't particularly well-liked by the people making the decisions. There were other times, I suspect, it was simply because I didn't fit whatever picture leadership had in mind of who deserved to move up.

I'm sure my personality didn't always help matters. Some people think I am barely tolerable.

I've never been particularly good at playing politics. I have opinions. I ask questions. And when something doesn't make sense, I have an unfortunate habit of saying so.

Apparently, that's not always a desirable leadership quality.

Who knew?

For years, I operated under the assumption that hard work would eventually speak for itself. If I showed up, did my job well, took on additional responsibilities, and proved I could lead, eventually someone would recognize what I had to offer.

And sometimes they did.

Just not enough to actually do anything about it.

That's the frustrating thing about a glass ceiling. You can see what's on the other side. You know you're capable of getting there. You might even be doing half the work of the people already standing above you. Perhaps you’ve become the net, making sure everything stays afloat.

But there's still something keeping you from reaching the next step. Your head begins to get bruised from bumping the glass ceiling year after year.

So you do what ambitious people do.

You work harder.

You volunteer for another project. You take on more responsibilities. You convince yourself that if you can just prove your value one more time, someone will finally open the door. Maybe that new boss will finally see what you have to offer?

And then one day you realize you've spent years auditioning for a role nobody ever intended to give you.

That's a difficult realization.

Especially when you've invested so much of yourself in an organization. You've built relationships. You've developed skills. You've become the person people depend on when something needs to get done.

Walking away can feel like admitting defeat.

But I've started to look at it differently.

What if the problem isn't your ability to climb? What if you've simply reached the top of someone else's ladder?

I spent a lot of years believing I needed to break through those ceilings. That if I could just find the right opportunity, the right person to believe in me, or the right combination of hard work and patience, eventually I'd get there.

Turns out, I was asking the wrong question.

I didn't need to figure out how to break through the ceiling.

I needed to figure out why I was so determined to stay in the building.

So I made a career change.

I started over in an entry-level position in an industry where I had very little experience. After spending decades building a career, I voluntarily went back to the bottom.

Which, when you say it out loud, sounds a little ridiculous.

But here's what happened.

Within three years, I went from that entry-level position to Director.

Three years.

I didn't suddenly become more intelligent. I didn't discover some revolutionary leadership technique. I didn't wake up one morning with an entirely different personality.

I was still the same person who asked too many questions, challenged things that didn't make sense, and had a stubborn tendency to give everything I had to whatever I was doing.

The difference was that I was finally in an organization where those qualities had somewhere to go.

And I think that's what I wish I'd understood earlier.

Not every organization is going to recognize your potential. Not every manager is going to advocate for you. And not every workplace is going to offer the opportunities you need to grow.

Sometimes that's because of bias. Sometimes it's politics. Sometimes there simply isn't room.

And sometimes, if we're being fair, we have things we need to work on, too.

But I spent too many years trying to prove I deserved opportunities that were never going to be offered.

I wish I'd figured that out sooner.

If you've hit the glass ceiling, perhaps it's time to find a new ladder.

Next
Next

The Wrong Mountain: When Hard Work Isn't Enough