Whether as CEOs, board members or executives, women tend to exit senior positions sooner and more frequently than their male counterparts. In Switzerland, women remain in executive management for an average of three years – men stay for seven. In 2023, turnover among the 100 largest Swiss employers reached a record high: 33 women left executive roles. In previous years, the number ranged from 10 to 16. And Switzerland is no exception. In the US, too, more women than men have stepped away from leadership roles in recent years.
So, what’s going on? To find answers, we spoke with women who currently hold – or once held – leadership roles: CEOs, team leads, executive board members. Five of them told us their stories. What they love about their work, what drains their energy, what support they need, and why they chose to stay – or leave.
The women we interviewed asked to remain anonymous – not to point fingers at specific companies or individuals, but to make a broader point: these are not isolated experiences. They reflect a system that was not designed with women in mind – and still struggles to make space for them. To underscore that, we’ve paired their stories with data.
And of course, we’re also looking for solutions. In the second part of this series, we’ll hear from experts who offer a critical perspective on workplace culture in the upper echelons – and what would need to change.
Tina (38) has been working at a large corporation for around nine years and is a member of the extended executive board. She leads a team of five people – three women and two men. In the extended executive board, she often finds herself in all-male groups.
I spend a lot of time in meetings with the executive board, my peers, or the board of directors. I’m often the only woman. That doesn’t bother me. What I do find exhausting is the tone. It’s aggressive and harsh. You can get used to it. But: when I, as a woman, speak in the same tone, people find it inappropriate. I’ve even been called in by my supervisor because of it. The truth is, I don’t even want to adopt that tone. I don’t want to conform to a communication style that doesn’t feel right to me. But because I’m in the minority and otherwise not heard, I don’t have much of a choice. My behavior is closely observed and commented on by colleagues and supervisors. How much space do I take up? How do I behave in meetings? What tone do I use when I speak? My male colleagues don’t have to deal with that. For them, it’s all about their professional performance. As a woman, I’m judged by different standards.
There’s also so much self-marketing: the men are constantly talking about what they’ve accomplished and achieved. I find that ridiculous. I don’t want to keep going on about how great I am at my job. I just want to do my job well.
The problem is: in our company, people often don’t notice when someone is simply doing good work – unless they talk about it constantly.
Of course, I play the game to some extent. In meetings, I make sure to greet everyone loudly when I enter the room. I choose a good seat and take up space. I’ve also learned to set boundaries. I no longer volunteer for tasks no one wants, like writing the meeting minutes. I used to take those on – because unlike the men, I felt responsible.
There are a few female colleagues and friends I talk to. I need that – to feel like what I’m experiencing is valid. Because at my level, I’m often the only one who feels «different» or bothered by something. It makes you question yourself.
Now and then, I also talk to men in the company about my struggles. The crazy part is: they have no idea what I’m talking about. When I explain what’s so exhausting for me, I just see blank stares. They can’t relate. To them, everything is fine. There are a few women in leadership positions – goal achieved, right? What more do we want?
There were times when I wanted to quit. But I’m afraid it’s the same in many places. So I decided to stay and work on myself. I try not to take things so personally anymore, and I draw clearer boundaries.
What would help me? If men realized how exhausting it is for us women to play their game – the «men’s game». They wouldn’t even have to change. Just listening and acknowledging that it’s hard for us would already make a difference.
I don’t know why they can’t do that. Maybe it’s because they’ve spent their whole lives in a privileged, dominant position and never had to consider other realities. I don’t know.
For me, it’s clear that I won’t take the final step within the company. I’ll never be part of the executive board. First, because the all-male circle doesn’t want me there – I’m too much, too demanding. Second, because I don’t want it either – it’s too exhausting. That career move would mean spending even more time in meetings and having to deal with even more men in even higher positions.
I don’t want that. I can’t do that.
Laura (35) has been working in the sports industry for nine years and leads a team of five people.
In my nine years in the sports world, a lot has changed. For example, early in my career, I was told much more often – without reason and in a business context – that I was pretty. That happens less these days. At least that. But there’s still a lot to be done.
At our company, there’s the issue of work-life balance. If you want to move up the ladder, you have to work full time. At the highest management level, there’s only one woman. She doesn’t have children and has dedicated her life to her career.
One level below, there are three women out of ten. Two of them have children, but they also work full time. The same is expected of fathers. If you have kids, the minimum workload for a management position is 80 percent. I don’t have children. But it’s something I think about. Right now, I see a lot of obstacles when it comes to combining family life with my job. I even considered switching careers. But I’ve invested so much in my career, and I really like my job.
There are other hurdles for us women, too. The sports world is highly competitive and male-dominated. There’s a lot of rivalry in our company as well, which I find toxic. As expected, in meetings or at events, I’m usually one of the few women – or the only one. I knew that when I chose this industry and I can handle it. But more and more, I feel how exhausting it is to always be in the minority. I work with clients and partners. And I constantly face prejudice: I always have to explain why I, as a woman, work in sports. I constantly have to prove myself. And I get underestimated: I’m in my mid-thirties, have nine years of experience, and hold a senior position. But most people don’t believe that. They assume I’m younger and think I’m at a different stage in my career. With my male colleagues, it’s automatically assumed they’re at the top of the ladder.
These doubts affect me. I think carefully about what I say and often fear being judged. After every meeting with clients or partners, I ask myself: Did I come across well? How did I present myself? Did I get my message across? I set high expectations for myself – both in terms of what I want to achieve and the quality of my work. These ambitions have taken me far. That’s why it’s hard to say how much of my doubt and perfectionism comes from my personality and how much comes from external pressure. From conversations with both men and women, I know: my male colleagues have far fewer self-doubts. Other women, on the other hand, feel similar to me.
I would definitely feel more comfortable if there were more women in my industry.
They would understand me better and judge me differently – because we’re more alike. I’d love to have more allies so I could feel truly at ease. My job is intense. A lot of work, stress, and pressure. That takes energy. And if, on top of that workload, I also feel uncomfortable – that’s too much.
But yes, I do like this job and the industry. It’s my passion. I’ve seen how much has already changed, and I can see that things are still evolving. Our CEO genuinely cares about getting more women into leadership roles. There’s a clear intention to create better conditions for women to advance, and there are regular meetings and conversations about diversity within our company. I see all of that. But I also see that change takes time – because it doesn’t depend on just one person. It involves the company’s leadership just as much as it involves colleagues, clients, partners, and ultimately, society as a whole. I just hope I still have enough energy and patience to wait for these changes to happen.
Nora (40) is a former team leader and now works independently.
My boss used to invite the male team leaders to a «Boys' Night». These team leaders reported directly to him. And yes, there were also women in team leader positions – but we were never invited. I only found out about these gatherings by chance. When I asked my colleagues about it, they openly told me: they go on outings, have dinner and drinks together, and enjoy a good time. I also brought it up with my boss. He didn’t see the problem. His response was: «You women can organize your own girls' night if you want. No one’s stopping you.»
I was pretty stunned. I know there was no bad intent behind it. But still, it made me think. On the one hand, it was clear proof that «boys' clubs» really do exist.
On the other, it was shocking that no one questioned it – and everyone just went along with it. Not one of the men – many of whom are interested in or even advocate for gender equality – found it strange that they were staying among themselves and that the women were left out by our shared boss.
And none of them tried to change that.
Judith (52) has been a team leader at a large corporation for many years. She currently leads a team of around 30 people.
I grew up in a male-dominated field and I know the rules of the game. You have to assert yourself, prove yourself, push through. For six months, I took over my supervisor’s job. It cost me an enormous amount of energy. The most difficult part was working with the other managers on the same level – all men. I knew I was wired differently as a woman. But I didn’t expect it to be this hard.
The hardest part was the interpersonal dynamic. I’m empathetic, I have emotions, and I show them. I say when I’m feeling insecure or lonely. When I brought this up with the men, they were stunned. One of my colleagues, for example, asked me how I was doing after a few weeks. I thought that was kind. So I told him I was still settling in and feeling a bit lonely. He didn’t respond. He didn’t know what to do with that kind of answer.
I also struggled with the posturing. We had a weekly meeting – meant to share experiences and find solutions together. That didn’t happen. No one asked questions. No one admitted they were struggling or needed help. Everyone was too busy talking about how well they were doing. It was all hot air. There was no real exchange.
I love my job. But in this position, I had to ask myself: What am I spending all my energy on? I felt uncomfortable. I started doubting myself and wondering: Is it me? Is it because I’m different? Because I’m a woman? I talked to other women in similar roles. They struggled with the same things. Knowing that was incredibly valuable.
What I wish for – in my company and everywhere else – is real diversity, not just something superficial. That people are consciously hired for their differences in character so that teams can truly be diverse. Whether I’ll live to see that in my career is unclear. But I hope my daughter and my son will experience workplaces where diversity is simply the norm. I’m tired. And I’m done fighting against a structure I was raised in – one that’s still so far from embracing true diversity.
Julia (41) was CEO of a mid-sized company for six years and led a team of eleven men. She recently transitioned into a staff position within the same company.
The turning point was becoming a mother three years ago. During my maternity leave, a lot changed. The team was restructured, and the organization chart was adjusted. When I came back, I suddenly found myself leading an all-male team – whereas before, it had been mixed. I had a hard time finding my place. On paper, it was clear: I was the CEO, the direct supervisor of the team leads, reporting to the (all-male) board of directors.
But in reality, it wasn’t that simple. During my absence, the board had started working directly with the team leads and made decisions without me. When I returned, I was left out. I felt like I had no say, no voice.
The men I was leading were young and ambitious. It often felt like I was managing a sports team in the middle of a competition. One example: when potential new hires came in for a trial day, the question was: «How many pull-ups can you do? Come on, show us!» I found that completely baffling. What do pull-ups have to do with a service job? I couldn’t relate to that hyper-competitive vibe – and I said so, repeatedly. But no one listened. On the contrary, the behavior was encouraged.
When hiring, they specifically looked for «ambitious» and «highly competitive» candidates.
And the team leads had a hard time accepting me. They didn’t take my input seriously. They never asked for advice. They didn’t implement my suggestions. I kept hearing: «Thanks for the input, but we’ll handle it our way.» I thought: Can’t we develop solutions together, as equals? Do I really have to turn everything I want into a direct order? The answer was: yes. So I started issuing more commands. But that kind of leadership didn’t suit me at all. It was exhausting. I didn’t want to be constantly overruled, but I also didn’t want to play power games. I talked to the board about it. They listened – and tried to find solutions.
Eventually, I withdrew. I accepted that I was different. I stopped intervening, let the men do their thing, and let them measure themselves against each other. After several conversations with the board – who would have liked me to stay on as CEO – I decided to change roles internally. Now I have a staff position. And I’m so relieved. I still work with the same people, but I have more autonomy. I no longer feel like I constantly have to prove myself to an entire team. It’s so much less draining.
It was a valuable experience. But I had to realize: me, as a woman in a leadership role, with my collaborative style – surrounded by competitive men? Extremely difficult. Looking back, a coach would probably have helped. Or connecting with other women in similar roles. We don’t talk about these experiences enough – so many women think they’re the only ones struggling. But that’s not true.
Sources: Statista; Women in the Workplace 2023, McKinsey & Company; The No Club; KMU-Portal des Bundes; Bundesamt für Statistik; The Old Boys’ Club: Schmoozing and the Gender Gap; Gender Intelligence Report, HSG; Harvard Business Review
For transparency: This text was first published on June 20, 2024.
Céline Meier
Katia Murmann
