The spaces women need: Reclaiming the boardroom
Reimaging professional spaces through the metaphor of dance
There are spaces we move through every day without question—offices, boardrooms, shared desks, Zoom calls and even the proverbial “seat at the table”. And then there are the spaces we have to fight to enter, the ones where access has never been guaranteed. For women, the workplace has long been one of those spaces—not just in terms of physical presence, but in how we are expected to exist within it.
This article is part of a larger exploration of the spaces women need—not just the ones we seek to enter, but the ones we are still learning to shape in ways that reflect our realities. Some of these spaces are professional; others are deeply personal. But all of them reflect the same unspoken challenge: how do we move through systems that were not built with us in mind?
If you’ve ever sat in a meeting and watched your idea get dismissed, only for someone else to repeat it and get credit, you already know the problem isn’t just about being in the room. It’s about what happens once you’re there.
For generations, the boardroom has been a symbol of power, a space where strategies are set, industries are shaped, and decisions that impact millions of lives are made. Historically, it’s also been a space where women have struggled to be heard, valued, and given equal influence. And while there has been undeniable progress—women are more visible in leadership than ever before—the reality remains that these spaces weren’t built with women in mind.
Being in the room is not the same as being included. Having a seat at the table doesn’t guarantee that your voice is heard, your ideas are valued, or that you feel a sense of belonging. If the culture of the room remains unchanged, simply increasing the number of women in leadership will never be enough.
Inclusion can be to an invitation to a dance—a metaphor that suggests participation, movement, and shared rhythm. But anyone who has ever been to a dance knows that presence alone doesn’t create connection. Some invitations feel warm and genuine, extended with an openness to what you bring. Others feel obligatory, a gesture rather than a welcome. And then there are the unspoken expectations: you can join, but only if you follow the steps that have already been set.
At its simplest level, diversity is about being at the party. You are physically present, but that doesn’t necessarily mean you feel comfortable, engaged, or at ease. Many industries, including healthcare and mental health, have made progress in bringing more women into leadership, but that progress does not always translate into real influence. In Australia, women make up over 75% of the healthcare workforce, yet only 12% of hospital CEOs and 30% of medical school deans are women. The numbers suggest a pattern: women are in the room, but they are often navigating spaces that weren’t originally designed with them in mind.
Being asked to dance is often mistaken for inclusion. It suggests acknowledgment—someone sees you and invites you in. But the real question is, Who is leading? Who sets the rhythm? And is there room for improvisation? Too often, women in leadership find that while they have been invited to join, they are still expected to move in ways that align with existing norms. Leadership, as historically defined, has favored decisiveness, dominance, and competition—qualities that have long been associated with masculinity. And so, women who naturally lead with collaboration, emotional intelligence, or relational awareness may feel pressure to adjust their style to fit expectations.
Even when women do step into leadership, they often find themselves moving through an invisible tension—navigating expectations that are difficult to reconcile. The traits traditionally associated with authority—assertiveness, confidence, directness—are often rewarded in men but scrutinised in women. A woman who leads with strength may be perceived as “too much.” A woman who prioritises consensus may be seen as “not enough.” It is a constant negotiation, a careful attunement to the expectations of the room.
But real inclusion—the kind that fosters belonging—allows for different ways of moving. It acknowledges that leadership is not a single style or a fixed identity, but a spectrum of approaches that can bring different strengths. It also recognises that not everyone experiences the dance in the same way. For women of color, women with disabilities, LGBTQ+ women, and those with non-traditional career paths, the barriers to entry may be even greater. Being in the room may already be harder. Feeling at ease enough to move freely may be harder still.
If the goal is not just diversity, but true inclusion, then the question is not simply, Who is here? or Who has been invited? It is, How do people feel once they arrive? Is there room for movement? For change? For people to bring their full selves without fear of misstep?
And perhaps the most important question of all: Are we open to changing the music?
True inclusion isn’t just about participation; it’s about influence and agency. It’s about shaping the space, not just being allowed into it. Women should not have to perform leadership in a way that mimics traditional male models to be taken seriously. Instead, workplaces must recognise and value diverse leadership styles—ones that prioritise emotional intelligence, long-term thinking, and inclusive decision-making.
The assumption that women simply need to “lean in” harder ignores the structural and cultural barriers that prevent full inclusion. One of the most persistent challenges is the bias in how women’s leadership is perceived.
When men are assertive, they are seen as strong. When women are assertive, they are often labeled difficult. When men negotiate, they are viewed as confident; when women negotiate, they are seen as demanding. These double standards shape everything from hiring decisions to salary negotiations, making it harder for women to advance in workplaces that still equate leadership with traditional masculinity.
There is also the well-documented phenomenon of women’s ideas being dismissed until a man repeats them. Studies confirm what many women already know from experience: men are more likely to interrupt women in meetings, and women’s contributions are more likely to be overlooked unless they are reinforced by male colleagues. This isn’t about individual men being malicious—it’s about ingrained cultural biases that affect how authority and competence are perceived.
True inclusion means checking in: Are women in leadership being supported, or are they being set up to fail? Are they given the resources and backing to implement change, or are they expected to do more with less? Are they able to lead authentically, or are they constantly adjusting their behavior to avoid backlash?
Psychological safety is a critical, yet often overlooked, component of workplace culture. People need to feel valued, supported, and secure before they can fully participate. When women enter leadership roles but find themselves isolated, second-guessed, or burdened with unrealistic expectations, their presence in the room becomes symbolic rather than transformative.
Inclusion requires constant assessment:
Are women in leadership actually being heard?
Are they able to make meaningful contributions?
Are there barriers—visible or invisible—that prevent them from stepping forward?
Not everyone expresses leadership in the same way. Some people thrive in highly visible roles, while others contribute through behind-the-scenes strategy, mentorship, or advocacy. Traditional pathways to leadership—such as rigid hierarchies, structured networking, and competitive office cultures—may not work for everyone.
If we are serious about inclusion, we must broaden our understanding of what leadership looks like. The loudest voices are not always the most valuable ones. Organisations that truly value diversity must create multiple avenues for contribution, recognising that leadership can take many forms.
If people aren’t dancing, the problem may not be them—it may be the environment. Rather than expecting women to adjust to the existing system, organisations must ask: What needs to change so that everyone feels able to engage?
Too often, when women don’t pursue leadership roles at the same rate as men, the blame is placed on a “pipeline problem.” The assumption is that women lack ambition, confidence, or the necessary skills. But what if the real issue is the structure itself? If the pathway to leadership requires sacrificing work-life balance, tolerating workplace bias, or constantly proving oneself in a way men do not have to, then the problem is not a lack of women—it’s the system.
Real inclusion requires:
Policy changes: Ensuring that leadership pathways are accessible and equitable, not just performatively diverse.
Flexible work structures: Supporting career growth while recognising that rigid, outdated models of leadership no longer serve a modern workforce.
Accountability: Leaders at all levels must actively address bias, call out inequities, and create cultures where diverse voices are genuinely valued.
Inclusion isn’t about adding more women to the room and hoping for the best. It’s about making sure the room itself is designed to allow everyone to participate fully. It’s about changing the way leadership is defined, valued, and rewarded.
Women in healthcare, mental health, and other male-dominated industries are not just asking for a seat at the table—they are asking why the table was designed this way in the first place. They are not simply seeking permission to participate; they are challenging the structures that have historically excluded them.
When women lead, the workplaces they create are more collaborative, more innovative, and better for everyone. And that’s the real goal—not just to dance within the old systems, but to rewrite the music entirely.
References
Australian Bureau of Statistics. (2023). Labour Force, Australia. Retrieved from
Workplace Gender Equality Agency. (2023). Gender Equality Scorecard.