My fight for equality at a Wall Street investment bank

In 2019 I was right where I wanted to be. United Capital had a very different model from big banks and brokerage firms — I was never handed clients or leads from a retiring advisor — but moving my practice there was a great decision. 

I loved the other advisors and the founders of the firm. I was on the advisory council and, with a colleague, ran the Women's Leadership division. I felt like I was moving the needle for women and wealth management.   

I was at the Invest in Women conference when we got the news. On a conference call with the managing directors and the executive team, our CEO informed us that they'd received an offer from the most prestigious investment bank on Wall Street. 

This firm was the white-glove, untouchable firm I knew from earlier in my career. How could this firm want to buy us? Why would they? They were 150 years old, and we were just over 10 years old. 

It was exciting, and I was optimistic about my future with the weight and resources of a giant firm behind me. I knew they had a class action lawsuit with women employees ongoing for 10 years; I imagined all the ways I could help make the firm more female-friendly, like I was doing at United Capital. 

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For the next few weeks no one had any idea what the deal was going to look like or when it was going to be announced to the public, and we weren't allowed to tell anyone. 

At the end of May we were told there was going to be a large amount of money granted in stock options to the partners and executive team and that our current shares of stock would be converted into their firm's shares so there would be no unexpected tax event. Then we discovered that instead of receiving stock, as we'd been promised, we'd get cash for our shares.

When we got our contracts, just days before we were to start, I was in shock. I had gotten less than half of what any male advisor I'd spoken with received. First, I cried. Then I got on the phone and pleaded my case. There was no negotiating with them. We were just chattel. 

Freedom lost

Due to my extensive social media presence I had a voice in the industry, and that would be taken away. If I posted anything on social media, within minutes I would get an ​email from compliance to take it down, although I saw my CEO and dozens of guys from the firm posting every day.  

My favorite word in the English language is "freedom," and I had none of it. I was a CFP Board Ambassador. After a year at the new firm, the CFP Board asked me to write a blog about the mistakes women make with money. I wrote it in less than a day and told the CFP Board to give me six months to get it approved.  

After a few months, I received an email from the firm: "The executive office is uncomfortable with this blog post; it is filled with sexist tropes and has no value." I cried for two days. This is my life's work — how could anything I say be considered sexist? Then it occurred to me: I have a unisex name. They think I am a man. At least that's what I told myself. 

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Freedom regained

After two years under worsening conditions, I decided to leave. My lawyer advised that the only way out of my contract was a negotiated exit in which I would pay to leave.  After reaching an agreed upon price, the investment bank came back and said, "We've lost the taste for these deals." I would have to quit and run out my noncompete to get my freedom.  

But then they decided to lower pay for the ex-managing directors of our firm, ​myself among them, and with that came a new contract with a six-month noncompete as opposed to the previous two-year noncompete. This was my way out. I was refused an exit interview, and that was that. I essentially had to jump out a window without a net. I had no idea what was on the other side.  

When my noncompete ended, I joined a new firm. It was like getting out of jail — I could not write or speak or share my opinion fast enough.  

But this new firm wasn't the right fit, either. I talked to my clients and said, either I retire or you have to Docusign. Now I was in a position of strength, as my clients were 100% self-sourced and most had been with me through many ups and downs. Then I was asked to be on the Nasdaq Advisory Council. It was an incredible honor. I was getting my mojo back, slowly. 

On May 8, 2023, the class action against my former firm was settled for $215 million (I was added to the class in 2022). It's been reported that after attorney fees, each plaintiff in the discrimination suit would receive approximately $47,000. Considering that's what some made in a month, not exactly meaningful restitution. 

After the lawsuit was settled, I received an email from the attorney representing the class. He informed me that United Capital employees were specifically excluded from this payout. To my knowledge, I was the only ​​woman in that group, which meant that I was specifically excluded. Sadly, I expected it.  

This column is an edited excerpt from Cary Carbonaro's "Women and Wealth: A Playbook to Empower Clients and Unlock Their Fortune," published by Wiley in April 2025.