An aunty was smiling beside her 25th anniversary cake.
Someone said that it had been difficult to endure all the pain, violence and stress, but she managed.
And I couldn't help but wonder: What parts of her disappeared while she was “managing”?
Randoms of Pri and my fellow विचारयात्री — Priyanka Dharmadhikari welcomes you back.
When did silent suffering become a virtue?
I grew up watching women take pride in sacrifices that slowly erased them. It was almost like an inherited wisdom, passed from one woman to another.
Mothers, aunts and grandmothers would narrate their marriages like survival stories.
“I adjusted.”
“I stayed quiet.”
“I tolerated.”
“I never left.”
Why is a woman called “Ideal” only when she has sacrificed enough?
Why does preserving a marriage sometimes become more important than preserving one's self-respect?
Strength and resilience are beautiful qualities. They help women navigate childbirth, physical pain, balancing life, work, motherhood and countless responsibilities.
But what happens when resilience becomes the reason to tolerate disrespect?
“Your husband’s house is your real home. Adjust, no matter what. You can only return from there after death!”
Leaving an unhealthy marriage is often judged as weakness. Choosing yourself can come with a social price.
People ask: “Why couldn’t she manage?”
Years of pain are later converted into achievement. Anniversaries are celebrated. Cakes are cut. Speeches are given.
And the woman smiles and says: “It was difficult, but we managed.”
This isn't about questioning marriage. It isn't a men versus women debate. And it isn't about glorifying feminism.
It is about asking why self-respect is negotiable when relationships are not. Why silence is considered better than honesty. Why endurance is considered more valuable than emotional well-being.
Why has suffering become a qualification for being a “Good woman”?
Maybe real strength is not just staying. Maybe sometimes, real strength is believing that your dignity deserves protection too - that self-respect was never meant to be negotiable.
I don't know how to change these thoughts. But I hope this makes you pause and reflect.
And I wonder about the mother who teaches her daughter: Adjust. Endure. Stay.
Would you still ask me to stay?
Maybe a mother would say: “Your parents will always stand by you. Be strong enough to face problems. But don't prove your womanhood through suffering.”
Why are women still applauded more for enduring pain than protecting their dignity?
