Why do women seem to have an expiry date in music?

I was running a workshop recently for women in the music industry when, during the Q&A, someone asked a question that had nothing to do with the topic I'd been speaking about.

"Do you think there's ageism against women in the music industry?"

It's a topic I've been hearing more and more.

I spent over twenty years working in music. I’ve watched incredibly talented women build remarkable careers, lead teams, sign artists and help shape this industry. I’ve also watched many of those same women be made redundant, overlooked for promotion or passed over for opportunities. They start to question where they fit after years of giving so much to an industry they love.

It feels like women are playing by a different set of rules.

Many men in music seem to age like a fine red wine. Every year adds to their reputation. Their experience is celebrated and they're still wining awards and leading teams.

Many women describe the opposite. They feel as though someone has stamped an invisible best-before date across their career.

Recently, a woman reached out to me after we'd spoken. She wrote:
"Our conversation made me think a lot about what I want to achieve, but I feel so held back by not only being a woman, but my age."

That message really upset me because I know she's not alone.

The hardest part isn't simply missing out on an opportunity. It's what years of being judged by a different set of rules can do to your confidence. Over time, even the most accomplished women can start questioning their value and wondering whether they still belong.

The irony is that the very women who've spent decades building this industry often have the most to offer. They bring perspective, resilience, commercial instinct, empathy and leadership that only experience can teach.

As an executive coach, I can't change the industry overnight, but I can help women reconnect with themselves. To trust their judgement again. To stop second-guessing themselves. To remember that their value doesn't disappear because someone else has stopped recognising it.

To remember who they already are, and that they are enough.

If this feels like your story, and you’re looking for support as you navigate what’s next, I’d love to help. Contact me here.