Girl, Smothered by Society's Expectations

I am a girl. A daughter. A sister. A future wife—at least that’s what they tell me. But I am more. I am a soul yearning to breathe, a heart aching to beat freely. Yet, my existence is a script I did not write, my worth measured by how well I conform. I do not live; I merely survive. I do not own my smile; it is borrowed for their approval. Every choice I make is scrutinized under the harsh glare of a society that refuses to see me as anything but a role to be fulfilled.

Marriage? More Like a Cage Disguised as a Dream

From the moment I was born, my fate was decided. Study well, but not too much—education is important, but not more than marriage. Find a job, but not one that makes you too independent. Be successful, but not intimidating. And above all, get married. Because in their eyes, my ultimate purpose is not to build a life of my own, but to fit seamlessly into someone else’s. My happiness is a trivial sacrifice, my desires mere whispers drowned in the roar of obligation.

They do not ask what I want. They do not care. Love, compatibility, choice—these are fairytales I am not meant to believe in. My feelings are dismissed. My voice is a nuisance. My dreams? A threat.

Even My Hunger is Not Mine to Satisfy

Something as basic as food should belong to me, yet even that is dictated by others. As a vegetarian by choice, I am forced to swallow my values just to avoid ‘disrespecting’ those around me. My preferences are laughed at, dismissed as childish whims. If I cannot even choose what I eat, how can I ever hope to choose how I live?

A Puppet on Strings, Cut and Rewoven to Fit Expectations

I am exhausted. Exhausted from always bending, from always yielding. From being told to ‘adjust,’ to ‘compromise,’ to shrink myself until I barely exist.

What about my dreams? My ambitions? My right to be happy? Why must they always come second to the comfort of others?

I crave freedom—not just the illusion of it, but the raw, unshackled kind that lets me breathe without permission. I want to be more than a shadow cast by tradition. I refuse to be a puppet controlled by hands that have never once considered what I want.

Will Things Ever Change?

The weight of expectation is suffocating, crushing me beneath its relentless grip. I fight, but the battle is endless. For every inch I claim for myself, society drags me back miles into submission.

But deep within me, a fire still burns. A whisper echoes in the quiet corners of my soul: You are more. You deserve more. And though the world may try to silence me, erase me, reduce me to nothing—I will not disappear.

I am a girl, and I will rise. I will rise, and they will hear me roar.