“I am here to meet myself and take up my whole shape.”

You’ve been told forever that there’s a “right way” to be a woman. You have been stamped with labels like tomboy, bossy, too loud, too emotional, too plain, too dark, too fat, too skinny. They handed you a checklist that no one can complete fully.

Every “too much” and every “not enough” they threw at you is still girlhood. The girl sprinting in sneakers while everyone else totters in heels? Girlhood. The one with scars on her knees and chipped nail polish? Girlhood. The one with stretch marks, acne, body hair, vitiligo, curves, bones, melanin? Yup still girlhood. The one who wants a corner office? Girlhood. The one who wants a quiet life with books and tea? Also girlhood.

You don’t have to be wild to be free.
You don’t have to be loud to be powerful.
You don’t have to be soft to be lovable.
You just have to be you: without shame, without shrinkage, without performance.

There is no one way to be a woman.
There is only your way.

“I am here to dream louder and build what doesn’t exist yet.”

For those of us who were not consulted in the building of the visible order, igniting our imagination is the only way to see beyond what was created. If we only consult reality for possibilities, reality will never change.
We will keep shuffling and competing for a seat at their table instead of building our own tables. We will keep banging our head on their glass ceilings instead of pitching our own huge tent outside. We will always remain caged by this world instead of taking our own rightful place as co-creators of it.

We have been told to be grateful for scraps. To work twice as hard for half as much and then call it progress.

Each of us was born to bring forth something that has never existed: a way of being, a family, an idea, art, a community - something brand new. The most radical thing a woman can do is imagine a life that actually fits her.

It’s daring to design a marriage where bills and dreams are split equally. It’s imagining raising kids without losing yourself. It’s seeing a career break as freedom, not failure.It’s dreaming of living single and happy at 40 while everyone asks, “When will you settle?” It’s picturing your art, your ideas, your business filling rooms they said you’d never enter. It’s building a life where you don’t hate Mondays, where your worth isn’t tied to your weight, where your joy doesn’t need permission.

Every “what if” you whisper -what if I leave, what if I stay, what if I build, what if I rest is a blueprint of YOU. 

So we cannot contort ourselves to fit into this visible order. We must unleash ourselves and watch the world reorder itself in front of our eyes.

“I am here to honour my gut, my body, my truth.”

No one else in the world knows what you should do and what you are. No experts, therapists, parents or friends. 

You already know.
Inside you is a voice. Not loud. Not obvious. But wise.
That tightening in your gut, that contraction in your chest, the discontentment that you feel in situations, that moment when you look in the mirror and go: Not this.
That’s her. The Knowing. That’s your compass.

But somewhere along the way, you buried her. You buried her when you picked stability over spark. You chose doctor over an artist because your parents clapped louder at that. You married because “that’s what’s next”. You had kids even thorough your gut was saying you are not ready. You learned to please instead of to feel.

How much of your life was your idea? Which of your beliefs are your own, and which were programmed? What were you before the world told you who to be?  

Your Knowing isn’t irrational. It is your oldest wisdom. Don’t dismiss it, bury it, numb it, deny it, blame it on someone else or tell yourself to shut up and be grateful.Now it’s your job to listen.Culture will try to drown it. Listen anyway.

“Politeness never saved my soul. Truth did.”

You’ve been told silence is safer. That politeness is peace. That holding back your words makes you “mature.” But silence doesn’t protect you - it swallows you.

You’ve lived it: swapping the wild dress for the “appropriate” one because aunties whisper. Smiling through a hand on your back because you didn’t want to “make a scene.” Choosing respectability over the major you loved. Scrubbing and serving when all you needed was rest. Staying because “at least he isn’t violent.”

And you’ve felt the opposite, too: the clean breath when you asked for the raise. The thrill when you finally said “this isn’t working.” The spine you grew when you told a friend, “you hurt me.”

The truth might make you lonely, but it will also set you free. Peace that requires your silence is not peace. Say it. Write it. Shout it. Breathe easier. You do not owe anyone your silence.Speak your truth. Even if your voice shakes. Especially then.

“I am here to choose growth over approval.”

The life you were told to want is not the life you have to live. Being “a good girl” is often just obedience in pretty packaging and a very clever form of self abandonment. Let go of being liked. Let go of being small.

You are allowed to burn it all down- the expectations, roles and limitations on you. To return the ring. To drop the major. To unfollow the account that makes you hate your body. To quit the job that pays but poisons your joy. To walk out of the house that feels like a coffin. To change your mind & your story.

You are allowed to change. You are allowed to start over - roles, marriages, labels, beliefs, illusions. Every time you let go of what dims you, you step closer to yourself. Do not settle down with “good enough.” Choose integrity over acceptance.

“I am here to rise with women, not above them.”

You’ve been taught since birth that there’s only one crown, one spotlight, one seat at the table -so fight for it. Compare, compete, gossip, pull down. They pit us against each other and called it ambition. 

But babe,  her win is not your loss. Her shine is not your shadow. Lets stop being jealous and competing with each other. We need to unite! 

You are not alone. Not even close. Look around you! Like seriously. All of us have similar stories. Remember the power of a colleague whispering her salary so you know what to ask. The friend sharing her vendor instead of gatekeeping. The random girl fixing your eyeliner in the bathroom. A mom volunteering to babysit your kids so that you can go give an interview.The goosebumps when another woman said, “me too,” and shame turned into solidarity. 

Your story will unlock someone else’s cage. This is not a competition. It is a collective rising. It is not a matter of pride that you are the only woman on the table. Crowns don’t clash, they multiply. If you’re rising alone, you’re not rising high enough. We all need to hold hands and help each other claim back our power and shine in our true feminine glow.

“My joy is not selfish. It the manual my kids will live by.”

You’ve been told being a “good mother” means giving all of yourself to your kids until nothing’s left.  Smile through the burnout. Kill every dream and call it sacrifice. But babe, if you’re dying inside, what exactly are you modeling? 

You do not owe your children your self-destruction. You owe them your aliveness.

Your kids don’t need a martyr. They need to see you alive. They need to see you chasing goals, laughing too loud, saying no when it’s too much. They need to experience the pride seeing you ace that presentation. The giggles when you danced in the kitchen instead of scrubbing dishes. The power when you told your partner, “Handle dinner, I’m going to yoga.” The peace when you booked therapy instead of exploding. The tenderness when you looked at them and said, “I’m sorry,” and meant it.

 Show them a woman who leads, loves, and never leaves herself behind. Let your children see you whole, not hollow. Your liberation is their inheritance. The greatest thing you can do for your child is heal yourself.

“I don’t need a hero. I need a mirror.”

You’ve been trained to delay your own damn life. Wait till you’re thinner, Married, Approved, Stable. Wait till “someday.”

Stop asking the world for permission to live. You dont find the power. You decide to take it. Abandon everyone’s expectations of you before you abandon myself.

Remember the thrill of booking that solo trip. Eating dinner alone without shame. Publishing your art even while your hands shook. Walking out instead of waiting to be left. Signing the lease on your first apartment even when everyone asked, “But who will take care of you?”

But no more waiting.Not for the right time, the right man, the right body, the right nod. This is your life. You already have the pen. Write it. Now.