Tech Worker Left the Industry After Feeling She Was ‘Too Old’

This as-told-to essay is based on a conversation with Maureen Wiley Clough, a 42-year-old former Big Tech employee who lives in Seattle. She’s also the creator and host of “It Gets Late Early,” a podcast about ageism in the workplace. The following has been edited for length and clarity.

The thing about getting older is that you see it happening around you, but somehow you never believe it’ll happen to you specifically.

It’s a real shock when it actually starts to matter — especially at work.

Being called a “dino” by a coworker got me thinking about the issue of ageism more seriously, and led me to consider whether I should stay in tech.

I left the television industry for tech

I started my career in television after graduating from Tufts University with a bachelor’s degree in English. I only spent a few years working in TV. It wasn’t just the well-known age bias against women that drove me out; it was also the volatility of the industry, the lack of upward mobility, and the constant reinvention required to stay afloat.

I was ready for something more stable, less overwhelming, and more lucrative.

Tech seemed like the obvious choice to a young person without a real path in mind. It was innovative, well-funded, culturally relevant, and cool.

I wasn’t a STEM major or a coder, but I had the communication, relationship-building, and people chops. I figured they’d need someone like me with an English degree to round out their team — and for a while, they did.

I worked my way through several SaaS startups and eventually got pulled into a well-known Big Tech company via acquisition. After starting out in sales, I shifted into business development. I was delivering results and moving up the career ladder.

A coworker jokingly called me a “dino” — and I realized he wasn’t completely wrong

At age 37, I had a moment that hit differently.

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I was Slacking with a younger colleague and mentioned I didn’t know how to add a GIF. He replied, “You dino.” He meant it as a joke, but as I let it land, I realized he wasn’t entirely wrong.

Most of my peers were in their 20s and early 30s. Unless you were VP-level or higher, the over-40 crowd was mostly missing. And it wasn’t just a startup thing — it was true even in Big Tech.

When I asked colleagues about it, most people shrugged. “Yeah, it’s kind of a thing,” they said. The “up or out” model — where if you haven’t hit a certain level by your late 30s, you’re seen as stalled or lackluster — was accepted as an inconvenient truth.

There’s an assumption that if you’re still in a midlevel or individual contributor role past a certain age, it must be because you weren’t good enough to move up — not because you wanted to stay close to the real work or because you had other priorities in life. Just, Welp. I guess you couldn’t hack it.

I tried to stay relevant, but couldn’t get ahead

Over time, I found myself worrying that people would see less potential in me with each passing year, even as I gained confidence and created more value at work.

I felt pressure to stay “relevant,” not just by keeping my skills sharp and knowing the jargon, but by managing my image at work super carefully. I dyed my hair, wore more trendy clothes, and put on makeup to try to fit the “right” image — which was, of course, looking youthful. I tried to avoid talking about my kids and went by “Mo” instead of “Maureen.”

Even after I did all that, I didn’t see many women like me getting ahead. As I neared 40, I felt the window of opportunity narrowing. I was at the top of my game and only getting better, but the next rung of the ladder stayed frustratingly out of reach.

I realized the industry I once admired wasn’t built for people like me

I left the tech industry three years after the “dino” incident, at 40 years old.

It wasn’t a dramatic exit; as is true for so many, my departure was due to a layoff by a startup. But it came with clarity: This industry I once admired wasn’t built for people like me. And I finally accepted I couldn’t change that from the inside.

Eventually, I had to ask myself: Do I really want to spend my next decades proving I still belong in an industry that doesn’t seem to want me?

My answer was no.

People often say tech is a young person’s game. I used to shrug that thought off or see it as an exaggeration. I don’t anymore. There were other cracks in the system too, including the casual sexism of being asked to take notes in meetings, the pressure to prove I could still “hang” at the bar post-baby, and being penalized for taking time off. It all added up.

I don’t want to suggest to people over 40 in tech that they’re doing anything wrong; it just felt like the right move for me. I didn’t want to spend my 40s pretending to be 29, just so I could stay in the room.

Ageism is everywhere

Ageism is probably the last socially acceptable form of bias in the workplace and society at large. It shows up everywhere — in who gets promoted and who gets hired.

The stereotypes about older tech workers are rampant: They can’t innovate, they’re slow, and they’re rigid. But in my opinion, we’re just harder to control. We have experience and usually some financial stability. We have enough experience to spot toxic nonsense and not put up with it.

People who have a lot of experience are often deemed “overqualified” or considered a flight risk as they appear to be close to retirement, despite the fact that older workers have longer tenures on average than younger workers do. Sometimes you’ll even see it in situations such as not being able to submit an application with a pull-down menu that doesn’t offer graduation dates before 1990.

The feeling of being pushed out is a large part of what prompted me to do what I’m doing now — focusing on these issues in my podcast. Shining a light on what’s happening can lead to change that will benefit all current and aspiring “older workers.”

Do you have a story to share about being an older employee? Contact this editor, Jane Zhang, at janezhang@businessinsider.com.