Every so often, a reassuring headline appears: the gap is closing, opportunities are improving, the market no longer discriminates as it used to. The idea is comfortable because it offers a sense of linear, almost inevitable progress. But the daily experience of many women tells a different story. A more ambiguous, more uncomfortable, and considerably less optimistic story. A story where progress does exist, but so do persistences. Where some doors open, yes, but not all. And where even when one manages to enter, there is still a need to demonstrate, justify, and resist more than expected.
Our co-founder Ursula Pfeiffer poses this problem with a direct question: “What is the situation of women as the first 25 years of the 21st century close?” The question matters because it forces us to look beyond automatic optimism. It is not enough to repeat that today there are laws, institutional discourses, or certain favorable indicators. One must also ask how a woman continues to be perceived when she occupies spaces of power, leadership, or high professional exposure.
To illustrate this, Ursula recalls an experiment shared by Female Evolution in which several high-ranking male executives were confronted with questions that, for them, sounded absurd or uncomfortable. They were asked, for example, if they had ever been suggested in a meeting to just smile and not speak, if they believed they had reached their position because of their appearance, if anyone assumed their hormones interfered with their work, or how they managed being assertive without being called aggressive or hysterical. The discomfort of those men was revealing precisely because of that: because it evidenced to what extent those questions remain normalized when the recipients are women.
What sounded ridiculous or out of place to them is part of the professional landscape for many women. Not always literally, but as a constant suspicion. Is she here because of capacity or image? Was she promoted based on merit or quota? Is she firm or is she conflictive? Is she leading or is she being “too much”? That is the heart of the double standard: women are evaluated not only for what they do, but also for how their body, their tone, their presence, and their conformity with expectations that rarely haunt men in the same way are perceived.
Ursula names it bluntly when she says that many times “our capacity is questioned and it is believed that we have reached a job, a position, or some labor privilege not through our intelligence, but through some use of our, in quotes, charms“. That phrase summarizes one of the most persistent traps in the female labor experience: even when a woman manages to advance, her merit can be reinterpreted, diminished, or sexualized.
That bias is not limited to the harsh corporate environment or high-level management positions. It also appears in popular culture, in press conferences, in everyday language, and in the way it is defined what kind of work seems “natural” for a woman. Ursula mentions, for example, how Scarlett Johansson was asked about her diet, figure, and weight while her male colleagues were consulted about their roles and work process. The scene is well-known because it concentrates a broader logic: the man is questioned about his function; the woman, about her appearance.
From this arises another crucial observation. There is a social comfort when a woman’s work seems to extend the traditional roles historically assigned to her. Ursula expresses it clearly by noting that there is acceptance when they occupy functions that resemble being a “daughter, mother, or wife,” or when they are seen as assistants, caregivers, or managers of others’ well-being. There is nothing wrong with those roles. The problem arises, she says, “in that people want to pigeonhole us into those roles, because we are much more than that“.
That pigeonholing has concrete consequences. One is that certain industries continue to be seen as more appropriate for women, while others remain culturally masculinized. And that difference is not neutral, because it usually coincides with inequalities in salary, prestige, and projection. Ursula problematizes this by analyzing a recent executive outplacement report in Peru that seemed to suggest a favorable closing of the gender gap. At first glance, the numbers might seem encouraging. But she stops where many promotional reports do not: at the story behind the data. “Because numbers are just numbers, but behind the numbers there is a story“, she warns.
And the story she finds is revealing. The sectors where women seemed to be advancing most strongly were, for the most part, traditionally feminized sectors: mass consumption, food and beverages, retail, pharmaceuticals, cosmetics, and services. But when looking at fields such as technology and communications, the outlook changes: men placed in managerial positions triple the number of women. The point is not to diminish female achievements in sectors more open to their participation. The point is to ask whether opportunities are truly expanding or if women are simply being allowed to grow within spaces that culture already considers appropriate for them.
Ursula also points out another question that many reports leave unanswered: what kind of positions do women actually access? Because “management” can mean many things. Greater openness to being a CFO does not necessarily equate to an equivalent openness to being a CEO. And that difference matters because it refers to an old narrative: women can manage, care, order, and sustain; but the overall vision, maximum command, and symbolic authority remain more available to men.
That pattern is not explained only by present-day business decisions. It also has deep roots in the educational system, in early socialization, and in the stereotypes that continue to shape which subjects and trajectories seem “proper” for girls and boys. Ursula says it clearly by questioning the idea that women would be more emotional than rational and, therefore, less suitable for mathematics or science. That cultural fiction has caused harm for too long, because it affects not only the self-perception of many girls but also the expectations of families, teachers, and employers.
That is why another observation in the text is so important: when a woman knows she enters at a disadvantage, she often works twice as hard to catch up. Not because she has to demonstrate an innate superiority, but because the starting point is already loaded with suspicion. That extra effort, so common and so little recognized, is part of the work experience for many women.
The international data that Ursula collects reinforces the gravity of the problem. McKinsey found that women occupy barely between 29 and 30% of high-level executive positions; the ILO reports an average wage gap of 20%; and the World Economic Forum estimates that, at the current rate, real parity would take 130 years. Rather than taking comfort in partial progress, these numbers force us to sustain the discomfort and keep asking questions.
That is why Ursula’s conclusion does not opt for comfortable silence, but for the necessary conversation. “First, it must be talked about“, she says, even when these topics cause discomfort or provoke disqualifications. Talking about it not as a gesture of victimhood, but as an exercise in lucidity. Because one cannot transform what one denies, nor can one build firmly if one does not fully understand the ground on which one stands. That invitation to look at reality with honesty, without minimizing prejudice or internalizing shame, speaks directly to the mission of Yuriyana Club to accompany women toward a fuller life at the emotional, physical, and sexual levels, through knowledge and connections that enrich.
You can find the complementary video for this article here: https://youtu.be/ETPYRtZDGtc
