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ONCE UPON A LIE

We were raised on ‘ happily ever afters.’ Told to believe that goodness, beauty, and patience would win us the life we deserved-

A prince, A palace, and a peaceful ending.

We brushed our hair, lowered our voices, kept our legs crossed, and anger hidden. We were told our softness was a superpower.

But then came life. And it didn’t arrive with a carriage but with chaos. No fairy godmother. No pause button .

Just expectations- sharp as swords.

As a kid, I was gifted a dollhouse and a kitchen set. Cinderella was my bedtime story, while slowly being trained for restriction. By 10, I was not allowed to play outdoors freely.

As soon as I turned 12, my mom told me that I might start bleeding spontaneously, and that’s completely normal because I am a girl.

At 18, I was not allowed to show skin or use makeup because I might attract unwanted attention.

They sold princess stories, but I was dropped into the warzones:-

Classrooms with impossible competition.

Workplace lined with unspoken misogyny.

Streets not safe after dark.

Relationships that expect emotional labor without return.

THE REAL FRAUD ?

They never wanted princesses.

They wanted soldiers in makeup, obedient and exhausted.

A WARRIOR IN A BALL GOWN

And here we are –

Not wearing crowns, but timeless.

Walking in stilettos, but with armor under our skin.

I have fought battles no one sees. I was literally struggling with depression, and the people I shared my diagnosis with didn’t hesitate to belittle me. I was body shamed by family and friends alike since childhood. What really hurts me is that my mom always calls me into the kitchen for help and not my brother, even after all these years.

I’ve worn invisibility like perfume. I’ve mastered the art of looking” okay”. But the truth? I’m tired of pretending grace isn’t heavy.

REWRITING THE ENDING

Now, I’m slowly dropping the script. No more being palatable. No more shrinking. No more waiting to be chosen.

I’m rewriting the ending- as a girl who saves herself, who cries without shame, who rests without guilt, who leads without apology.

Some days I still feel like a little girl lost in a castle full of mirrors. But now I know- the mirrors were cracked long before I looked. And I am done blaming my reflection.

THE REAL POWER

Being a woman in 2025, isn’t about crowns or conquests. It’s about embracing your self in this noisy world.

It’s about being true to yourself. Soft and strong. Ambitious and exhausted. Beautiful and breaking- yet still rising.

WE ARE NOT FAILED PRINCESSES BUT TIRED WARRIORS WITH GLITTER ON OUR SCARS.

AND THAT- THAT IS POWER.