The Motherhood Penalty and what change could mean

I never really understood the phrase “the motherhood penalty” until I lived it. It sounded like one of those abstract feminist concepts, something you might read about in a policy paper or hear mentioned in a debate. But when I had my first child, the phrase took on a very real, very personal meaning. Suddenly, I felt like my career, my earnings, and even my sense of self had been hit with a price tag simply because I became a mother.

I do not regret for one second the decision to have children, but I resent the way society has made me, and millions of other women, pay a disproportionate price for it. It is a price that fathers do not pay in the same way, and it is a price that ripples out across the economy and across generations. The motherhood penalty is not just about lost wages or missed promotions. It is about the way parenthood is structured, the assumptions about who should care, who should earn, and what that does to our lives, our families, and our society.

In this blog, I want to share what that penalty has meant in my own life, why it happens, and why I believe that if childcare were shared more equally, if fathers and mothers both carried the load, and if society invested in better childcare systems, then not only would women like me be better off, but families, businesses, and the economy would be stronger too.

Living the Motherhood Penalty

When I went on maternity leave, I expected some disruption. I knew there would be sleepless nights, nappies, and the emotional rollercoaster of becoming a parent. What I did not expect was how much of an impact it would have on my career trajectory.

Before I had my first child, I was working full-time, ambitious, eager for the next step up. My male friends and colleagues, many of them fathers already, did not seem to miss a beat when their children were born. They came back to work within days or weeks, and their careers marched forward as if nothing had changed. For me and pretty much every women out there, the story was very different.

I took almost a year out, partly because I wanted to and partly because childcare was so expensive it barely made sense to rush back. By the time I returned, I found myself subtly sidelined. Projects I might once have led had been handed to others. Opportunities for training and promotion had passed me by. There was an assumption that I would not want to go to the London office, or that I would not be as committed as before. I had not changed in my ambitions, but the perception of me had. Maybe they knew what was to come!

Nursery fees were eye-watering, and the logica” choice was made that I should work fewer hours, since my partner’s salary was higher. That decision seemed sensible on paper, but it cemented a pattern: I became the one working part-time, but I was juggling the lion’s share of childcare and life admin - managing the doctor’s appointments, school runs, and sick days. His career continued on its upward climb. Mine plateaued. That, in a nutshell, is the motherhood penalty. Read more on Unpaid Work.

Why Is the Penalty So Gendered?

The motherhood penalty is not inevitable. It exists because of deeply ingrained social structures and economic systems. Society still largely assumes that women will be the primary caregivers, and workplaces are built around a model that favours uninterrupted, full-time careers, something easier to achieve if you are not the one taking time out to care for children.

Fathers, by contrast, are rarely penalised. In fact, some studies suggest there is even a “fatherhood bonus”, where men are viewed as more stable and reliable once they have children. They are rewarded for becoming dads, while mothers are punished.

Parental leave policies reflect this imbalance. In the UK, mothers can take up to 52 weeks of maternity leave, while statutory paternity leave is just two weeks. Shared parental leave technically exists, but uptake is tiny, less than 2% of eligible couples use it, because it is poorly paid and culturally discouraged. When the system itself nudges families into traditional roles, it is no surprise that mothers bear the penalty.

Then there is childcare. The UK has some of the most expensive childcare in Europe. For many families, it simply does not add up for both parents to work full-time, especially when one earns less. Since women, on average, already earn less than men thanks to the gender pay gap, it is usually the mother who steps back. The cycle continues.

The Emotional Toll

The financial and career costs are one thing, but the emotional side of the motherhood penalty is harder to measure. There is the guilt of feeling like you are not giving enough to your job, and the guilt of feeling like you are not giving enough to your children. There is the frustration of knowing that if only things were set up differently, you could thrive in both spaces.

I have often felt invisible when I try to explain these experiences. People might say, “But you chose to have kids,” as if that explains or excuses systemic inequality. Others might point out that I am “lucky” to have the option of part-time work at all. But luck has nothing to do with fairness. Choosing to have children should not mean choosing a lifetime of economic disadvantage.

Why Shared Childcare Matters

What would make things fairer? The answer is not complicated: childcare must be shared more equally between parents. When fathers take an equal role in childcare, everyone benefits. Mothers are freed to maintain their careers and earnings which would work towards closing the gender wealth gap. Children benefit from closer bonds with both parents. Fathers gain the opportunity to be present in ways many say they wish they could be. And workplaces are forced to adapt to the reality that caregiving is not just a “women’s issue.”

Countries like Sweden and Norway show what is possible. They have “use it or lose it” parental leave for fathers, dedicated time off that cannot simply be transferred to the mother. Uptake is high, and the cultural expectation is that dads will take leave. The result is more equal sharing of care, narrower gender pay gaps, and stronger family relationships.

If the UK were serious about tackling the motherhood penalty, it would invest in similar policies. Equal, well-paid parental leave for both parents would shift the balance. Affordable childcare, subsidised by the state, would make it feasible for both parents to stay in work. These are not luxuries. They are investments in the economy and in equality.

The Economic Case

Some people still dismiss calls for better childcare and shared leave as “special treatment” for women. But this is not just about fairness for individuals, it is about what makes sense for society and the economy.

The motherhood penalty costs the UK billions each year. Women working below their potential means lost tax revenue, lost productivity, and wasted talent. According to the Women’s Budget Group, closing the gender employment gap could add up to £600 billion to the UK economy by 2025.

Affordable childcare pays for itself many times over. When parents, especially mothers, can work more hours, they pay more taxes, spend more in the economy, and rely less on benefits. Countries that have invested heavily in childcare, like Denmark, have seen significant boosts to GDP.

And then there is the business case. Companies with more women in senior roles perform better, innovate more, and have higher profitability. But if talented women are being pushed out or held back because of motherhood, those companies are missing out. Read more about the leadership gap.

Imagining a Different Future

I sometimes imagine what my life might look like if things had been different. What if, when my children were born, my partner and I had both taken six months off, fully paid, with no stigma attached? What if childcare had been affordable enough that I could return to work without doing complicated sums that always seemed to devalue my contribution? What if every workplace assumed that caregiving was a shared responsibility, not a female one?

I would have had more confidence to pursue promotions, more financial independence, and less stress about balancing it all. My partner would have experienced more of the daily joys and challenges of early parenthood. Our children would have grown up with a model of equality.

This is not a fantasy. It is a reality in other countries, and it could be a reality here too.

Breaking the Cycle

The motherhood penalty is not just about individual families, it is about the messages we pass on to the next generation. If children grow up seeing mothers sacrifice careers and fathers carry on as usual, they learn that this is normal. Girls internalise the idea that their futures will be compromised by motherhood. Boys absorb the idea that their primary role is to earn.

Breaking this cycle requires cultural and structural change. Schools, media, and workplaces need to challenge stereotypes. Policies need to back up those changes with real options. Parents themselves need to make conscious choices about sharing care, even when it feels hard in the short term.

My Call for Change

I am proud of the mother I am, but I should not have had to sacrifice so much of my career, my income, and my sense of fairness just because I had children. The motherhood penalty is not natural, and it is not inevitable. It is the product of systems that undervalue care, underfund childcare, and underpay women.

A fairer system would treat parenting as a shared responsibility. It would provide affordable childcare for all, equal parental leave for both parents, and workplaces that support flexibility without penalty.

This would not only transform the lives of mothers like me, but it would create a stronger, more resilient economy and a more equal society. The motherhood penalty has been accepted for too long. It is time we stopped paying it.

August 2025