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Why Women Feel Resentment in Their 40s Recently, I was reading the comments on my social media page. Hundreds of women had shared their thoughts, and many of them were in their forties. Their words were different, but the pain behind them sounded almost the same. One woman wrote that she had raised three children. She left her career when it was at its peak because her family needed her. For years, her days revolved around school runs, meals, homework, illnesses, birthdays and everyone else's needs. Now her children are going to school and becoming a little more independent. The house is quieter. She finally has some time for herself but instead of feeling free, she feels lonely and full of resentment. She looks back and feels that she has achieved nothing in her life. Reading this did not surprise me even a bit. Because behind many homes, many successful husbands and many well-raised children, there is often a woman whose dreams were quietly placed on a shelf. Nobody asked her to...

I Matter Too Before you read this, I would request you to read my previous blog on generational trauma: Can We Unlearn What We Learnt from Our Mothers and Grandmothers? This post is not a separate conversation. It is the voice that rises after we finally recognise what generations of women have been silently carrying. We girls are introduced to forgetting ourselves so early that, after a while, it no longer feels like sacrifice. It feels normal. We watch the women before us eat after everyone else, rest after everyone else and think about themselves only after every other need in the house has been fulfilled. We learn to adjust before we even understand what adjustment means. We learn to lower our voices, swallow our disappointment and smile at decisions in which nobody thought it necessary to include us. And slowly, quietly, we become women who take a back seat in our own lives. The Invisible Training Begins Early A girl is often praised for being obedient, accommodating and mature b...

  A Letter From the Woman Who Never Gets to Say, “I’m Tired” Dear All, I don't know exactly when it happened. When I became the person who remembers everything. The school timings. The doctor's appointment. The grocery list. The birthday. The bill that needs to be paid. The shirt that needs ironing tomorrow. The food someone doesn't like. The food someone suddenly wants. The message that needs replying. The relative who needs checking on. The thing my husband mentioned three days ago and has probably already forgotten. Somehow, I remember. I always remember. And somehow, everyone knows that I will. My day starts before everyone else's The house is quiet when I wake up. For a few minutes, nobody needs anything from me. Then my mind starts. Breakfast. Lunch. School. Uniforms. Bags. Water bottles. Who has homework? Who has an activity today? What needs to be bought? What needs to be cleaned? What did I forget yesterday? And before my feet e...