By Dr. Farzeen Bano
Marriage changes a woman’s world in ways she rarely anticipates. For me, it wasn’t about giving up my dreams—it was about learning how quietly they can be reshaped.
After completing my M.Phil. and Ph.D. in Political Science and Gender Studies, I imagined a life of teaching, research, and writing. But after marriage, reality took a different turn. My husband works in another state, while I live with my in-laws in Uttarakhand, where the expectation is simple: a woman may work, but only if she can return home by evening.
Each time I received an interview call from a university in Delhi or Uttar Pradesh, excitement mixed with guilt. My family would gently remind me, “It’s too far… Who will take care of your daughter?” I told myself that love requires compromise. Yet, as the years passed, I realized something had quietly faded—my sense of self.
When Silence Turned Into Words
There were nights when loneliness crept in. My husband was busy, and I never wanted to burden him with my worries. My parents were miles away. I found myself surrounded by affection that didn’t always understand me
So, I started writing.
It began with a few sentences scribbled in a notebook after putting my daughter to bed. Slowly, those lines became paragraphs, and paragraphs became blog posts and essays. Writing became my friend—someone who listened without judgment.
Each word I wrote was like reclaiming a piece of myself that I had lost in the process of fulfilling others’ expectations. Writing became more than expression; it became survival.
The Weight Women Carry
Many women I meet share similar stories—educated, capable, yet quietly confined by invisible boundaries. It’s rarely open opposition; it’s the soft resistance wrapped in care: “We just want what’s best for you.”
Statistics often show how women’s participation in the workforce declines after marriage, especially in traditional societies. But behind every number is a woman who once dreamed of a life beyond domestic roles.
For me, it wasn’t just about giving up a job—it was about giving up a version of myself I had worked so hard to build.
Writing as Healing
Writing offered me the courage to turn pain into purpose. Every blog post or research article became a step toward emotional healing. It connected me with other women who shared their struggles, and I realized I wasn’t alone.
Through writing, I found a way to live meaningfully within the life I already had. It reminded me that while our circumstances may limit us, our words can set us free.
A Note to Every Woman Writer
If you’re reading this and feel unheard or stuck between duty and desire—write.
You don’t need perfect conditions to start. You just need honesty and the willingness to express your truth. Writing doesn’t just record your experiences—it reshapes them.
For me, writing became a bridge between who I was and who I wanted to be And perhaps that’s what every woman’s story deserves—to be written, shared, and remembered.
Dr. Farzeen Bano is an Assistant Professor of Political Science and a researcher passionate about gender studies, digital literacy, and women’s empowerment. She holds an M.Phil and Ph.D. from Jamia Millia Islamia, where her doctoral research focused on “Women Prisoners and Their Rehabilitation: A Case Study of Jails of Uttar Pradesh.” Beyond academia, she writes on social issues, education, and women’s rights, aiming to bridge research with real-life change through digital storytelling and public engagement.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Would you like to participate in Friday "Speak Out!"? Email your short posts (under 500 words) about women and writing to: marcia[at]wow-womenonwriting[dot]com for consideration. We look forward to hearing from you!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Read More »
Marriage changes a woman’s world in ways she rarely anticipates. For me, it wasn’t about giving up my dreams—it was about learning how quietly they can be reshaped.
After completing my M.Phil. and Ph.D. in Political Science and Gender Studies, I imagined a life of teaching, research, and writing. But after marriage, reality took a different turn. My husband works in another state, while I live with my in-laws in Uttarakhand, where the expectation is simple: a woman may work, but only if she can return home by evening.
Each time I received an interview call from a university in Delhi or Uttar Pradesh, excitement mixed with guilt. My family would gently remind me, “It’s too far… Who will take care of your daughter?” I told myself that love requires compromise. Yet, as the years passed, I realized something had quietly faded—my sense of self.
When Silence Turned Into Words
There were nights when loneliness crept in. My husband was busy, and I never wanted to burden him with my worries. My parents were miles away. I found myself surrounded by affection that didn’t always understand me
So, I started writing.
It began with a few sentences scribbled in a notebook after putting my daughter to bed. Slowly, those lines became paragraphs, and paragraphs became blog posts and essays. Writing became my friend—someone who listened without judgment.
Each word I wrote was like reclaiming a piece of myself that I had lost in the process of fulfilling others’ expectations. Writing became more than expression; it became survival.
The Weight Women Carry
Many women I meet share similar stories—educated, capable, yet quietly confined by invisible boundaries. It’s rarely open opposition; it’s the soft resistance wrapped in care: “We just want what’s best for you.”
Statistics often show how women’s participation in the workforce declines after marriage, especially in traditional societies. But behind every number is a woman who once dreamed of a life beyond domestic roles.
For me, it wasn’t just about giving up a job—it was about giving up a version of myself I had worked so hard to build.
Writing as Healing
Writing offered me the courage to turn pain into purpose. Every blog post or research article became a step toward emotional healing. It connected me with other women who shared their struggles, and I realized I wasn’t alone.
Through writing, I found a way to live meaningfully within the life I already had. It reminded me that while our circumstances may limit us, our words can set us free.
A Note to Every Woman Writer
If you’re reading this and feel unheard or stuck between duty and desire—write.
You don’t need perfect conditions to start. You just need honesty and the willingness to express your truth. Writing doesn’t just record your experiences—it reshapes them.
For me, writing became a bridge between who I was and who I wanted to be And perhaps that’s what every woman’s story deserves—to be written, shared, and remembered.
* * *
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Would you like to participate in Friday "Speak Out!"? Email your short posts (under 500 words) about women and writing to: marcia[at]wow-womenonwriting[dot]com for consideration. We look forward to hearing from you!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
.jpg)
.jpg)
