Womanhood

Childhood:

I hated being a woman from my childhood because I was not allowed to do things that I loved, such as going to the terrace and watching the sky or playing with other children at the playground.

I was not allowed. That’s all I can remember from my childhood—full of ‘You can’t do that,’ full of my unfulfilled childish desires.

I used to cry for hours.

• Why didn’t you seek help from your close ones?

“Why are you creating such a scene? Girls must be patient. Why do you need to go outside like boys? Girls must be homely,” they said.

So, I taught myself patience. Being homely. Other than going to school, I used to spend my whole day within four walls. I figured it was a sign of patience to others when you kept quiet. I started living for others. Do you want to know how old I was? I was nine when I learned to sacrifice, be patient, and keep my mouth shut because it helped me stay out of trouble.

• But troubles like what? You were just nine years old, right?

“She’s stubborn. Let’s get her married. Marriage will fix her. There’s no need to continue her study,” they said.

Whenever any girl broke the societal rules of being quiet and patient, they were punished by discontinuing their studies and getting married. These became an everyday phenomenon for the girls around me. They were nine or ten. Some were twelve, maybe. They were punished. I could be punished too, but I told you, I learned to be quiet and invisible.

A girl who rarely speaks. A lokkhi (good-natured).

• Well, girls must be good-natured. Don’t you think?

“She is a good girl, but very naïve. How come she is so shy?” they said.

Adolescence:

I hated being a woman during my adolescent years too. Because my walk, the way I talk, and the way I dressed were sexualized—not only by random creepy men but also by my own people. My puberty had hit me very hard. My physical changes came earlier than those of teenagers my age. I was questioned by everyone, “Why are you growing so fast?”

-Didn’t you tell them growth varies from person to person?

“Where is your orna(veil)? Why are you blushing? Why is your body changing? Her brothers are in the room. Don’t go there. Why do you stay at home all day long? By the way, don’t spend more than 5 minutes on the terrace. The bachelors go there,” they said.

Let alone explaining rationally, I started to disappear more. I started feeling like I must hide from all these people—people who were commenting, forcing their opinions; male relatives who were gazing disgustingly.

I couldn’t figure out why it was disgusting, but I sensed it. Like there was an invisible veil on my body, and someone was trying to remove it and take a peek. I must hide. Must.

So, a life that excluded social interaction started. It reached a point where it spread to the core of my soul and made me comfortable. It created a space where only solitude could bring peace to me. It bloomed the flowers that are shy and thrive when left alone. A teenage girl who keeps her head down, walks slowly, talks less, and doesn’t have any friends.

-That doesn’t make sense. Don’t you think you should have raised your voice?

“Let’s tame her down. She doesn’t listen to us like she did before. She needs to wear a borka now. Otherwise, she’ll bring attention to herself,” they said.

So, I was taught that decency means covering my body from top to bottom. I must protect myself and this society by covering my skin. My uncovered skin can cause chaos. It can make men go wild. It is my utmost responsibility to balance the peace of society. I wore this amazing guard of honor with utmost respect.

But… But I was molested by my high school headmaster.

• How do you know it was molestation? Did you share it with anyone?

“It happens to every woman now and then. Make it a habit to ignore such petty issues. You must have given him some hint. It was your fault, I guess. Now, keep quiet,” they said.

Young Adulthood:

Deeply rooted hatred is spreading day by day. Not only do I hate seeing myself suffer as a woman, but I also feel sick watching others suffer the same way or in other ways.

It was never the mindset of those handful of people who surrounded me during my childhood and adolescence. It is the whole system. The patriarchal spiral is so strong that it has even taken some women by its side, blinding their vision, wrapping their heads up.

-If this is true, my mother would have complained. Why are you making up stories? It’s 2025, and things have changed.

“Domestic abuse, the rape of a 3-month-old child, the molestation and murder of a pregnant woman on a train, layoffs after returning from parental leave, and the masculinization of workplaces—these are all made up, you say?

In 1803, Nangeli in Kerala, India, cut off her own breasts in protest against the oppressive ‘breast tax’ imposed on lower-caste women. In 1988, Furuta, a 17-year-old girl in Japan, was abducted, tortured, and murdered in one of the most brutal cases of gender-based violence. In 2016, Sohagi Jahan Tonu, a university student in Bangladesh, was murdered, and her case sparked nationwide protests, but justice was never truly served. In 2024, Gisèle Pelicot in France endured years of abuse at the hands of her husband, who drugged her and invited others to assault her. In 2025, girls are still aborted because of their gender, still catcalled on their way to school, and many women commit suicide due to private videos leaked by their partners.

Listen, I wish I had a childhood spent chasing butterflies in fields, a teenage life where I could embrace my femininity, and a young adulthood full of possibilities. I wish these women had the peaceful, trauma-free lives they deserved.

All of these painful events stem from the unfairness we face from childhood. They are all connected. The more we ignore these issues, the more we perpetuate this vicious cycle.

Only when we address these injustices can we truly embrace womanhood. The vibrant, dramatic nature of femininity is a gift, but one that too often we cannot enjoy.

I wish, just once, I could feel safe enough to truly enjoy being a woman.” – I said!