Women: The Stories We Tell About Ourselves

A reflective Indian woman sits at a warm peach-toned table near a softly lit window, surrounded by a work bag, child’s drawing, mirror, shopping bag, receipt, phone, and journal, suggesting the many explanations women carry around work, motherhood, self-care, and success.

Women are often asked to explain choices that men make without a story. Work, travel, ambition, self-care, success, even distance from people. All arrive with a justification attached. Here are some of the stories women learn to tell before anyone asks, and the uncomfortable truth of how often we pass them on.

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Posture: The Stories Our Bodies Tell

A woman walking away along a quiet residential path, her posture slightly contained with arms close to her body, set against a warm peach-toned background.

You think you’re noticing a person.

The clothes, the walk, the outline of a stranger moving through an ordinary evening.

But sometimes what you’re really noticing is a pattern your body already knows.
How to move without interrupting.
How to shrink just enough.
How to stay within the edges of space without ever testing where they actually are.

And once that recognition clicks, it’s hard to tell whether you saw them at all. Or just recognised yourself at a distance.

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Outrage: The Stories That Distract Us From What Matters

A diverse crowd of urban individuals with slightly blurred, expressive faces in warm peach tones, showing collective outrage, fading into silhouettes in the background.

A post about a car service centre trying to steal parts from my car reached more people than anything I had written in over two decades. Not the pieces on motherhood, work, identity, or the slow work of figuring out a life. Just one moment of outrage. It felt like validation, until it started to look like something else entirely.

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