When I first watched the Hamilton musical and heard the track "Who Lives, Who Dies, Who Tells Your Story?" I found myself pondering the same thing: Who tells our story? We live in a society where women's voices are often distorted or drowned out. So the question arises again: Who tells your story? Rather than see this question as a prompt for introspection, we should view it as a call to action—a cry for women all over the world to take a stance and reclaim their narratives in a world that all too often seeks to silence them.

After hearing those lyrics from Hamilton, I couldn't shake the feeling that I was one of those numerous women out there whose voice, whose story will eventually get distorted and told the way that history deems fit. I realized that my story was waiting for someone to give it a voice and not just anyone but ME. As a woman, I have often felt weighed down by societal expectations dictating how I speak, how I act, and even shockingly, how I should think. From an early age, I internalized these narratives fed to me by society.

I remember vividly the subtle messages conveyed through media and literature and even from conversations between friends and family. I was taught to be polite, not to laugh too loud, not to be too girly so as not to drive potential suitors away, not to have a certain opinion, to always smile even though I disagreed with the opposite party, and to put others' needs and wants above mine. It was drilled into my head that my worth depends mostly on my physical appearance and not my intellect, my worth lay in my ability to attract male attention and keep the attention. And then I found myself conforming and molding my image to fit this woman society wanted me to be and I failed to realize I was losing my voice and identity in the process.

And then I finally reached a moment of—you could call it a rebellious stage, where I found myself questioning the narratives I was spoon-fed. It was at that point, that I began to wonder: Who am I? What's my identity? What do I believe in? Why had I allowed myself to be defined by societal expectations for so long? In that particular moment, I felt a stirring in me, a moment of self-discovery and this single moment would ultimately lead to a journey of reclaiming my narrative.

As I sit down to reflect on the challenges faced on this journey of reclaiming my narratives, I am aware of the countless contradictions and double standards placed on women by society. We are told to be thin but not too thin, we are expected to balance a work life and a home, and we can be successful but not too ambitious. And when we try to voice our complaints or challenge the status quo, we are accused of being ungrateful.

In her monologue in the Barbie movie, Gloria talks about these contradictions perfectly:"You have to be thin, but not too thin. And you can never say you want to be thin. You have to say you want to be healthy, but also you have to be thin. You have to have money, but you can't ask for money because that's crass. You have to be a boss, but you can't be mean. You have to lead, but you can't squash other people's ideas. You're supposed to love being a mother but don't talk about your kids all the damn time. You have to be a career woman but also always be looking out for other people. You have to answer for men's bad behavior, which is insane, but if you point that out, you're accused of complaining. You're supposed to stay pretty for men, but not so pretty that you tempt them too much or that you threaten other women because you're supposed to be a part of the sisterhood. But always stand out and always be grateful. But never forget that the system is rigged. So find a way to acknowledge that but also always be grateful. You have to never get old, never be rude, never show off, never be selfish, never fall, never fail, never show fear, never get out of line"

As I listened to these words in the cinema, I couldn't help but resonate with them. It perfectly described the struggles I faced. For years, I had internalized the contradictory messages and strived to meet the impossible standards set while feeling the burden of the expectations. As I looked around the cinema, I could see in the faces of women around me that they also felt the same thing I felt at that point. We had to be the perfect daughter, perfect friend, perfect girlfriend, perfect wife, perfect employee and at the same time grappling with the fear of being criticized for deviating from the "correct" path.

But amid this chaos, I found joy in the act of reclaiming my narrative. And I realized I could do this through the power of storytelling. What better way to tell my story than to use a pen and paper or in the digital sense, a Google Doc. With writing, I found a sanctuary—a safe space, where I could unravel all the threads of my thoughts and eventually weave them together to form my creation.

Through writing, I was able to find a voice and not any voice, it was MY voice. A voice that resonated with my own experiences, my dreams, my desires, and my hopes. With words, I could scream at the top of my lungs while telling my story without societal expectations holding me down. With each word I wrote down–or typed– I was able to free myself from societal norms. I was able to strip away the version of me that society had molded and discover the real me. The me who didn't hesitate to pursue her dreams, the me who didn't think twice before voicing out her opinion.

Writing provided an avenue for me to reclaim my narrative. I became the author of my own story. I was able to reflect on my lived experiences. Writing guided me through my self-discovery journey. It was a tool that allowed me to confront the part of me that had been suppressed by society and embrace the fullness of who I am–a woman of resilience and one who doesn't hesitate to chase her dreams.

At the end of the day, the question: "Who tells your story?" is a call for women all over the world to reclaim their narratives with whatever avenue they choose. It could be through writing, it could be through videos, it could be through visual art, or even through performance arts. Whatever avenue you choose, it's time to take a stand and tell our own story.

This women's history month, I'd like to appeal to women everywhere to no longer sit still, feet crossed while society writes their story about how they feel, but instead to raise their voice in defiance and shape the course of their destiny.

It is through telling our stories and experiences that we will be able to inspire others to do the same and thus create a ripple effect of empowerment that has no limits.

#WM2024