The Broken Rung Still Holds - But It’s Not The Whole Story

The “Broken Rung” has become one of the most important metaphors in workplace equity—and in 2024, it became a movement.

Originally coined by LeanIn.org and McKinsey & Company in their Women in the Workplace report, the term describes the first step up to manager where women, especially women of color, disproportionately get stuck. The data has been clear for years. Now, with the recent publication of The Broken Rung by LeanIn and McKinsey, the urgency is even clearer.

But here’s what I keep coming back to:

I don’t think the rung is broken.

---

If it were broken, no one would move past it. And clearly, people do.

What I see instead is a rung that demands something different—something many women weren’t taught to value, cultivate, or name. It’s not just about doing the job well. It’s about being seen doing it. About presence, not just performance. About knowing how to step forward even when you haven’t been invited yet.

This rung hasn’t collapsed. It’s evolved. And it’s asking more of us than we expected.

I believe there’s a deeper story behind the data—a human one.

The kind you don’t find in charts, but in conversations. In the quiet unraveling of why someone so capable starts to second-guess her next step. Because while the statistics speak volumes, they don’t capture what it feels like to be filled with ambition and still feel like you’re moving through invisible strings. Strings that go unspoken. Strings you can’t quite name—but that hold you back all the same. They don't describe the exhaustion of trying to prove readiness when a peer with less effort is already moving up. They don't describe the exasperation of watching your momentum slow for reasons no one is saying out loud.

I see her—the woman who burns bright but still feels invisible in all the places she’s trying to be seen.

She checks every box and exceeds most. Her reviews are strong, her work is solid, her ambition undeniable. But the praise is vague. The path unclear. The next step always one conversation away, yet never offered.

She’s told to keep showing up, to keep proving herself, to be patient. She speaks up in meetings and somehow leaves without being heard. She watches peers move past her, carrying half the weight.

And still, she stays. Sharp. Capable. Hungry for more.

And eventually, she begins to question herself. Maybe she’s doing it wrong. Maybe she’s not good enough. Maybe everything she was taught up to this point no longer applies.

She doubts her worth—not because she lacks it, but because the rules feel invisible, and the game keeps shifting.

---

The broken rung isn’t just about missing titles. It’s about missed cues, missed feedback, missed access, and missed moments. And in many cases, women are left to decode those dynamics alone.

That’s the part we don’t talk about enough. The feeling of moving with ambition but without footing. Of constantly scanning the room for signals that no one is saying out loud. Of wondering if your value is understood—or if it’s being quietly questioned.

It’s not just about performance. For many high-performing, early-career women, ambition—the thing you can’t teach—is something they have in abundance. They come in ready to contribute, ready to grow, ready to lead. And still, the signals are murky.

It’s about perception. About moments that pass without context. About learning to navigate terrain that still doesn’t have a clear map.

And part of that terrain is internal. For years, young women are conditioned to believe that perfection earns advancement. Get the grades, do the work, follow the path—and success will follow. Academia rewards order, accuracy, and diligence. But the workplace doesn’t work that way.

To rise, she has to shed the skin of perfectionism that once made her shine. She has to unlearn the reflex to overextend, and instead learn to optimize—to focus her energy where it counts, to speak with intent, to act before she’s ready. She has to recondition her thinking: from earning gold stars to shaping her own trajectory. That shift isn’t obvious. But it’s necessary.

Because the workplace isn’t linear or predictable—it’s pervasive and nuanced. There’s no playbook. This isn’t something you can order off Amazon or learn in a syllabus. And at every step, especially with every new company, she’s walking into unknown dynamics. The rules change, the language shifts, the expectations hide beneath politeness or performance. She’s expected to read the room while finding her voice in it. And no one tells her how.

---

I don’t believe the broken rung will be solved by data alone. It will be solved by learning to see yourself clearly, and making sure others do too. By honing visibility, understanding your impact, and knowing how to communicate it—to the right people, at the right time, in the right way.

It will be shaped by practice. By self-agency. By the kind of support that shows up in the moments where women might otherwise stall.

The story isn’t just about fixing a rung.

It’s about honoring the quiet resilience required to keep moving without clarity. It’s about making sense of what feels unsaid. It’s about learning, slowly and bravely, to trust your voice in rooms where silence is easier.

It’s about finding your way forward—not because someone handed you the map, but because you refused to stay still.

That’s what it really means to rise.

Not with a checklist. Not with a perfect score. But by stepping into the spaces where there are no grades—only nuance. Where ambition meets ambiguity. Where the answers aren’t written, but felt.

Because upward movement—real, internal, lived movement—isn’t earned by being flawless. It’s shaped by the courage to keep moving even when the rules are unclear and the effort goes unspoken.

And maybe that’s the truth that was never graded—but always mattered most.