Dear Friend,
It’s 3 AM. The house is quiet except for the distant hum of the refrigerator. My coffee has gone cold, forgotten during these hours when thoughts refuse to sleep. Tomorrow’s lunch boxes are cleaned and sorted. Week’s menu is stuck on that fridge magnet I picked from last vacation. Tomorrow’s meeting notes are prepared. Yet here I sit, exhausted but awake, thinking of me, you, of us.
International Women’s Day is around the corner. Soon our WhatsApp will flood with pink-themed sales promotions and forwarded quotes about women’s strength. The corporate world will post about their women leaders. News channels will feature exceptional women who broke glass ceilings.
But what about us? The lakhs of ordinary, educated Indian women whose dreams got deferred but never died.
I remember when I first moved abroad after marriage. The excitement quickly faded when every job application ended with “Sorry, your dependent visa doesn’t permit employment.” My engineering degree, my HR experience suddenly turened just paper.
I watched my husband leave for work each morning while I stayed behind, my career shrinking. I volunteered for multiple friends who were in India or were Facebook friends – all praises but never earned a rupee. I wrote articles, edited a ton, edited videos, wrote case studies, it felt I was a remote freelancer who worked for free.
I know I’m not alone. My cousin in Bhubaneswar quit her IT job when her in-laws needed care. My college friend paused her career when her child was born and she never found a support system. My neighbor returned from the US with an MBA that gathered dust while she waited years for a work permit.
We are everywhere. Women who calculated the cost of childcare against salaries and reluctantly stepped back. Women who followed spouses to new cities, becoming “trailing partners” despite our own ambitions. Women who faced the impossible math of 24-hour days that demanded 30 hours of giving.
Some nights, I still wake up panicking about the gaps in my resume. Will anyone hire me now? Will they see my worth beyond the years marked “just a housewife”? The interviewer who asked why I “chose not to work” never saw the visa rejections, the childcare struggles, the elder care responsibilities that weren’t choices at all. Times are changing, yes, many employers are becoming more accepting of gaps, especially if we openly address the reason and highlight any positive activities during that time – further education, volunteering, personal development. But are we fitting there?
Starting my agency from our small apartment in this tier II city wasn’t glamorous. I worked during nap times. Took client calls from the balcony to avoid household noise. Practiced pitches while cutting vegetables. Sent emails at 2AM because that’s when I finally had uninterrupted time.
I see you sitting up late too, scrolling job sites, wondering if your skills are obsolete. Updating LinkedIn while your family sleeps. Wondering if it’s too late, if you’ve been left behind.
It’s not. We’re not.
Our careers don’t follow straight lines. They loop and pause and restart.
Each detour taught us management skills no MBA could—negotiating with toddlers, coordinating cross-continental family care, stretching resources, maintaining grace under pressure.
This Women’s Day, between the sale notifications and token celebrations, I want you to know, your worth was never measured by your employment status. Your education wasn’t wasted during those gap years—it was being applied differently. Your dreams don’t come with an expiration date.
We are lakhs strong. Our comeback stories matter. Our persistence in the face of systemic barriers matters.
Tomorrow I’ll be tired from this late night. I’ll make breakfast, manage domestic helps, send kid school, attend meetings, chase clients, help with homework, and push forward my small business another inch. So will you, in your own way.
And that quiet, relentless persistence? That’s what deserves to be celebrated more than any discount code or inspirational quote.
Happy International Women’s Day!
In this journey with you,
Pragnya
