Why Women Leave Law: It’s Rarely a ‘Personal Choice’

Women do not leave the law lightly, and in my experience and as CEO of ADRODR India, as a former General Counsel, and most importantly as a mother of three it is rarely a matter of simple personal preference. It is often a decision shaped quietly, cumulatively, and sometimes reluctantly by structural realities that the profession has yet to fully confront.

Let me begin with candour. I did not “step away” from the law because I ceased to love it. On the contrary, the law is a discipline that becomes part of your intellectual spine as it trains your mind to question, to negotiate, to resolve. But there were phases in my life when I stepped back, intermittently, because raising three children demanded a kind of presence that no boardroom, however critical, could replace. That was not a lack of ambition; it was an exercise of responsibility.

I intermittently stepped away from my legal career while raising my three children. Not because I lacked commitment to the law, nor because I ceased to value the intellectual rigour or the sense of purpose it gave me. I stepped away because the responsibility of raising children particularly in their formative years is not an abstract duty. It is immediate, non-delegable, and deeply human. The law, for all its sophistication, has not yet fully accommodated that reality.

The legal profession, for all its intellectual progressiveness, still operates on an old architecture, one built around uninterrupted careers, long hours, and a presumption of constant availability. This model was historically designed around professionals who had fewer domestic expectations placed upon them. Women, particularly mothers, step into this framework already negotiating a dual burden. The law does not formally exclude them; it simply fails to accommodate the reality of their lives.

Childcare is not a peripheral responsibility. It is central, relentless, and non delegable at key stages. A young child does not understand filing deadlines or court listings. Nor does a teenager navigating formative years respond to “adjournments.” As a mother, you are not merely managing logistics, you are shaping human beings. That carries a weight no professional designation can override.

In my own journey, there were moments when I consciously chose to slow down. I moved from the intensity of full-time corporate leadership into phases where I engaged more selectively with advisory roles, with dispute resolution, with building institutions like ADRODR India. In my own journey, there were phases when stepping back was not a retreat, but a strategic pause. I remained intellectually engaged, I stayed connected to the discipline, but I did not occupy formal roles at the same intensity. 

Yet, the profession often interprets such pauses as a lack of seriousness or ambition. That is a fundamental misreading. It is not that women are choosing to leave the law; it is that the law has not yet learned how to retain them through different life stages. These were not exits from the profession; they were recalibrations. Yet, the profession often interprets any deviation from the linear path as disengagement.

This is where the narrative becomes problematic. When women step away, even temporarily, it is labelled as a “choice,” implying autonomy in the purest sense. But choice, in law as in life, must be understood within context. If the system does not provide flexible pathways, if re-entry is difficult, if part-time roles are undervalued, then the so called “choice” is constrained. It is less a free decision and more a negotiated compromise.

There is also an unspoken cultural layer. Women are still expected, in many societies including ours, to be primary caregivers. Even in progressive households, the mental load, planning, anticipating, nurturing often rests disproportionately on women. You can outsource assistance, but you cannot outsource emotional accountability. And when a conflict arises between a child’s need and a professional obligation, the decision, more often than not, is made in favour of the child.

There is also an unspoken penalty attached to flexibility. Requests for reduced hours, remote engagement, or non-linear roles are often perceived as diminished commitment. This perception is rarely applied equally. A man working late is seen as dedicated; a woman leaving early to attend to her child is seen as less invested. These subtle biases accumulate over time, shaping opportunities, promotions, and ultimately, retention

From a dispute resolution perspective, this is almost like a structural imbalance in bargaining power. The profession demands continuity; motherhood demands presence. Without institutional mechanisms to reconcile the two, women absorb the cost.

What is particularly telling is that many women do return. They return with sharper judgment, deeper empathy, and extraordinary resilience. In alternative dispute resolution especially, these are invaluable qualities. The ability to listen, to mediate, to understand underlying interests rather than stated positions are skills honed not just in courtrooms but in homes, in raising children, in managing conflict at a human level.

The tragedy is not that women step away; it is that the profession does not adequately value the experience they gain during that time, nor does it create seamless pathways for their return.

If I may offer a forward looking view, the solution does not lie in urging women to “lean in” harder. It lies in redesigning the profession itself. Flexible work structures, meaningful part-time roles, institutional respect for career breaks, and robust re-entry programmes are not concessions but are necessities. Law firms, corporate legal departments, and even courts must recognise that talent does not diminish because it pauses.

As a mother, I will say this without hesitation: there is no regret in prioritising one’s children when they need you most. Careers can be rebuilt, reshaped, even reimagined. But the early years of a child’s life are irreplaceable. The real question, therefore, is not why women leave the law. It is why the law has not yet evolved enough to ensure they don’t have to.

Until that changes, many women will continue to step away not because they want to leave, but because they are choosing, quite rightly, to honour a responsibility that society itself depends upon, even if it fails to adequately support it.

Author: Pavani Sibal is the CEO of ADRODR India. The views expressed are personal.