Time we told our daughters they are in charge of their own story.
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When you remove the patriarchy tinted glasses forced on you since childhood, a lot of things begin to clear up. You see things for what they are. You notice the ‘little things’ that have a lasting impact and how they end up forming attitudes of entire societies.
You see it when– girls are asked to keep still and quiet while their brothers bounce off the walls; when a little girl is told “let your brother have it no”; when violence in boys is just ‘boys being boys’ but in girls is unseemly and unladylike; when girls are scolded for ‘provoking’ boys’ aggression; when new brides are told “You must adjust the maximum you can”; when a woman with an opinion is considered ‘oversmart’ and people want her to be ‘put in her place’; when parents fear ‘overeducating’ their daughter because she might develop higher expectations for her life and demand higher standards of her future spouse; when women are expected to minimise their personality to be likeable; when being likeable is more important that being ambitious or passionate or hardworking;
When society would rather have an unhappy and bruised married woman than a happy and fulfilled single woman/divorcee; when a whimpering boy is mocked for crying like a girl; when ‘like a girl’ is the worst insult for a boy; when men fear appearing feminine so much that they repress their emotions lifelong; when men don’t have the emotional support network that women are encouraged to develop through their sister-networks; when women can’t dream without being reminded that at the end of the day her family comes first; when women can’t make choices for themselves without being guilt tripped; when biology is used to straitjacket women into singular choices; when mothers are expected to sacrifice everything for their family with a smile; when a woman slaving over a kitchen for 3 decades is ‘just doing her job’’; when girls are born with timelines and checklists that remain with them till their death.
Time we told our daughters they are in charge of their own story.
Nazreen Fazal
Writer, Wife, Mother, Indian, Muslim. So many labels, one me. I write, I rant, I ramble in order to make sense of everything happening around. Join me on this journey as I share snippets of my life, going about work, my parenting wins and fails, and the murky waters that's long distance marriage.
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