The dreaded “five o’clock walk of shame”

The dreaded
“five o’clock
walk of shame”

A phrase I often hear new mothers returning from maternity leave use is: “I hate doing the five o’clock walk of shame.” They are usually referring to leaving work at a reasonable time to collect a baby, relieve a nanny, get home for feeding or simply spend a little time with their baby before bedtime.

It sounds casual when people say it. A bit tongue-in-cheek. But language is rarely neutral. The phrases we use give us a window into the assumptions, blind spots and cultural conditioning we operate from.

What does it reveal when a mother leaving work at a reasonable time is experienced as shameful?

 

What does it reveal when visibility is still the measuring stick for commitment and performance?

And what does it reveal when women feel they need to hide the very human impact of becoming a mother?

For generations, women have had to navigate the idea that their emotions are “too much”, that caregiving makes them less available or valuable, and that needing support makes them less capable. So many returning mothers do not come back and say, “I need help.” Instead, they come back trying to prove that they do not.

They carry guilt for being away. Fear of being judged as less committed, less ambitious, less resilient, or less ready for progression. And a deep reluctance to be seen as asking for “special treatment”.

So in an attempt to prove their commitment, they work after hours once the baby is asleep.  They stretch themselves privately. They absorb the strain in ways that are not always visible at work until it begins to secretly affect their confidence, health, relationships or sustainability later down the line.

This is where organisations can so easily misread what they are seeing.

 

What looks like smooth reintegration may be silent overcompensation.
What looks like resilience may actually be fear of judgement.
What looks like “she’s fine” may simply mean she does not feel safe enough to be fully honest.

This is not about blaming managers, teams or organisations, but rather about creating awareness of the invisible negotiations many women are making in the background as they try to remain committed to their work while adjusting to a profoundly changed life.

If long hours, informal visibility and physical presence remain the unspoken markers of commitment, working mothers are placed in an impossible bind. They are expected to return as though nothing has changed, while everything has. They are expected to prioritise work above the very real needs of a baby who is still adjusting to the world, to separation and to new care arrangements.

For organisations serious about gender equality, retaining high-performing women and growing more women into leadership, this awareness creates a real opportunity. Not only to improve policies, but to understand and support the transition more consciously in practice. When women feel supported during this season, they are far more likely to feel loyal, engaged and able to keep contributing without silently burning out or building resentment.

A mother leaving at five is not necessarily less committed.

 

In many cases, she is deeply focused. She knows what needs to get done, because she also knows who is waiting for her at home.

The shape of her availability may have changed, but her commitment has not.