They told us to study hard, to collect degrees, to make our families proud. And we did. We stood on podiums, aced exams, and held certificates that once felt like promises — that we could have more, do more, be more. But the moment we stepped into marriage, that promise was rewritten. Suddenly, education wasn't for our empowerment — it was just another item on a biodata.
We are allowed to be educated, yes — but only as long as we stay within limits. The limit of not outshining anyone. The limit of not speaking too boldly. The limit of knowing our place, no matter how many qualifications we carry. We are praised for being "smart" but not too ambitious, "capable" but not too loud. Our degrees look lovely on a wall, but God forbid we want to live the life we dreamed of while earning them.
No one asks how our day went or what battles we fought in meetings or on the way back. It doesn't matter how much we earn or how hard we try
And here's the harder truth: it's often women enforcing these limits on other women. Mothers-in-law ask why the rotis aren't round — not why their daughter-in-law looks drained after work. Aunties who roll their eyes at a woman who travels for her job, who whispers behind the back of the one who chose not to have children. Even our own mothers sometimes tell us not to "get too proud" or "fly too high." Society uses women to discipline women — and that's how the cycle survives.
Even when we do both — when we work, earn, and return to still handle the home — we're never enough. No one asks how our day went or what battles we fought in meetings or on the way back. It doesn't matter how much we earn or how hard we try. If dinner is late, if clothes aren't folded, if the house isn't spotless — we are the ones questioned. We carry both the burden and the blame.
Why must we always be the ones to choose? Why is it always either-or? Either a good mother or a good employee. Either a respectful wife or a woman who speaks her mind. Why can't we be all of ourselves? Why is it that men are never asked to choose between ambition and family — but we are expected to sacrifice one for the other, quietly, without fuss?
But here's what they don't expect: we are waking up. More and more of us are saying no to this silent arrangement. No to shrinking ourselves to make others feel safe. No to the guilt that's handed to us for simply existing outside a mold. We are finding each other, listening, healing — slowly, deeply, intentionally.
Spaces like Mental Workout with PA exist for exactly this reason. To remind women that we don't exist only to serve. That breathing, pausing, and being — are not luxuries. They are our right. That healing matters just as much as hustling. That we can reclaim our sense of self — and help others do the same — without shame.
The life they want for educated women is small, contained, and controlled. But we're not here to fit that life anymore. We're here to rewrite it.