From pregnancy to relocation, women share why returning to work is so hard

Dubai: Ahead of a job interview, Aisha Mohamed had rehearsed answers about strategy, revenue growth and AI transformation. She was ready to talk about leadership, performance metrics and scaling teams.
Instead, she found herself explaining a two-year gap on her CV — and watching the energy in the room change. By the time she logged off the interview, she already knew..
“I’d gone through the whole process,” Aisha told Gulf News. “Multiple rounds. Positive feedback. And then I would mention that I was pregnant… and it would be radio silence.”
It is not uncommon for women to take a career break due to pregnancy, relocation, or to care for a sick family member. Unfortunately, a career break in a woman’s resume is a red flag.
Data from the World Bank Group’s Open Knowledge Repository shows that approximately 49 per cent of women returning to the workforce in the MENA region report being rejected due to resume gaps, explained Laura Taylor, Head of Middle East, TENTEN Partners.
“There’s also a ‘re-entry cliff’ tied to the duration of the break," explained Laura. About 54 per cent of women away for one to three years find success, however, that success rate plummets to just 19 per cent for those away for more than five years, said Laura.
But the truth is, for many women in the UAE trying to return to work after a career break, the hardest part is not losing skills. It is losing visibility and sometimes losing faith in themselves.
Aisha had built nearly two decades of experience in artificial intelligence and emerging technologies. She had led teams, delivered transformation projects and operated at senior levels across the UAE.
At one point, she was commuting daily between Dubai and Abu Dhabi — a punishing routine that left home before sunrise and ended well after dark.
“I was exhausted,” she said. “It wasn’t sustainable.”
When she became pregnant, stepping back felt temporary — a practical decision to regain balance. She assumed her track record would speak for itself when she returned.
Instead, she entered what she now describes as an invisible barrier. She recalls progressing through several interview processes for VP-level roles. Hiring managers were enthusiastic. Recruiters were engaged. Conversations felt serious.
“And then I would disclose that I was pregnant,” she said. “And that would be it.” No rejection email. No feedback. Just silence.
The silence, she says, was louder than any formal “no.”
Now, after two and a half years out of the workforce, she is encountering a new challenge: salary expectations.
“I’m almost forced to take a decrease in pay kind of,” she said. “Of which I find quite unfair. I don’t feel that two and a half years… has done away with the skills that I had before.”
The experience has reshaped how she views senior hiring. “You start questioning yourself,” she admitted. “Am I asking for too much? Am I outdated? Have I missed something?”
Lujain Sawallha’s professional journey followed a different path — but led to a similar crossroads.
Originally trained as a dentist, she chose to pivot into administration and operations, working with the Dubai Health Authority and later contributing to projects at Expo 2020 Dubai. She found she enjoyed systems, coordination and strategic work.
“I realised I liked operations more than clinical work,” she said. When she briefly returned to dentistry, she did so to maintain her license and explore flexibility. But when she later applied again for operations roles, recruiters questioned her consistency.
“It became like, ‘You left dentistry. Then you left operations. So, what do you actually want?” she said.
Each rejection chipped away at her confidence. “Every time we reject, we reject, (sic)” she said quietly. “That made me actually lose a lot of confidence.”
At her lowest point, she withdrew entirely. “In one month, I deleted everything. LinkedIn, applications. I didn’t want to talk to anyone. I didn’t want anyone asking, ‘So what are you doing now?’”
What had begun as a confident career pivot began to feel like a liability.
“You start feeling like you made the wrong choices,” she said. “Like you confused your own path.”
For Maryam Munaf, the break was shaped by geography. A nutritionist by training, she had been working in Abu Dhabi before relocating to Toronto with her husband. What was meant to be a short move stretched into a decade abroad.
During those years, she participated in various commercialisation programs in Toronto that helped her understand what it takes to turn a recipe into a food product. “And I did that for a few years, and I actually ended up launching my own business,” Maryam explained.
When she returned to Dubai, the market felt different. Faster. More competitive. More digitised. “I always felt like I wasn’t ready,” she said. “There’s no way someone’s going to look at my CV compared to someone who’s been working for the past 10 years.”
Even clicking “apply” felt intimidating. “You think, what if they ask me something technical and I can’t answer? What if I’ve forgotten everything?” Her hesitation became its own barrier.
“You keep telling yourself you’ll apply next week. Or after one more course. Or after you update your CV again.” What changed, she says, was not her The qualifications — but her perspective.
“I can now articulate what it is that I want better,” she said. “And definitely feeling heard is one of the strongest things that we felt.”
The turning point for all three women came through a return-to-work initiative led by the Women’s Pavilion at Expo Dubai.
“It was born out of a base of lived experience,” said Maha Gorton, Head of the Pavilion. “Designed to support women who have taken a career break get back into the workforce with refreshed skills and renewed confidence.”
Nearly 1,000 women registered for the first phase — a number that surprised even the organisers. “It was incredibly eye-opening,” Maha said. “To realize really, really what a problem this is,” said Maha.
The issue, she argues, is not a lack of ambition.
“It’s not because of a lack of skills. It is a system that creates barriers beyond control. These are women who haven’t opted out. They are being excluded.”
According to Maha, outdated hiring norms are compounding the problem. Non-linear career paths are often filtered out early — sometimes before a human sees the application. “CVs are being read by AI now,” she said. “It’s a formula.”
Repeated rejection creates what Maha describes as a dangerous spiral.
“When you keep applying for jobs, and you stop — you don’t hear back — it really does have a knock on your confidence,” she said.
Women begin to internalise the silence. “You start to think, maybe I should start again from entry level,” she added. “But this is not a reset. Returning after a career break — it’s a progression. It’s not starting over.”
Beyond CV clinics and interview prep, something less tangible emerged: solidarity.
Participants created their own WhatsApp group. They began organising informal meetups across Dubai, Abu Dhabi and Sharjah. They shared job leads, feedback and encouragement. “That initiative and organising — that’s another skill set,” Maha said.
Each woman was paired with a mentor. Small “ally circles” brought together participants who had navigated similar breaks before.
For many, the emotional validation proved transformative. “When you’re going through it, you really start to think there’s something wrong with you,” Maha said. “But when you suddenly bring all these women together… You realise it isn’t me.”
Aisha describes the shift simply. “I definitely feel more heard.” And sometimes, after years of silence, being heard is the first step back.
It’s not all doom and gloom though. According to Laura, “The good news is that overall, we see the landscape for people returning from career breaks in the UAE and wider region shifting.”
She added, “There is a rapidly emerging business case for reintegrating experienced talent. The return of Emirati women is increasingly positioned as a macroeconomic imperative, helping expand the talent pool, raise productivity, and strengthen the UAE’s competitiveness in future-facing sectors.”
Laura stated, “We’ve certainly been encouraged to see several visible senior appointments of women in the UAE.”
“Many of these- such as Hana Al Rostamani, Group CEO of First Abu Dhabi Bank and Rola Abu Manneh, CEO, UAE for Standard Chartered- are in typically male-dominated industries, demonstrating that the country is actively supporting Emirati women in reaching decision-making roles.”
According to Anil Singh, Chief Business Officer at TASC Outsourcing, "Returnship programmes are starting to gain awareness, but they remain relatively rare across the UAE. While some forward-thinking companies are piloting initiatives, many still treat them as niche or CSR-focused efforts rather than a core part of their talent strategy."
"There’s enormous potential here: when appropriately structured, returnships can serve as a strategic pipeline for skilled, experienced professionals, helping companies access talent that might otherwise be overlooked and build loyalty from employees eager to re-enter the workforce."
Maha hopes to bring the programme back. However, for now, as Aisha said, “This is just the very beginning of our journey.”
But something has shifted. Not necessarily in the system — yet.
But in how these women see themselves. And sometimes, that is where change begins.