No one can make you feel inferior without your consent — Eleanor Roosevelt

“No one can make you feel inferior without your consent.”
When I first read this quote, I paused. And then I smiled — because I knew exactly what it meant.
Not just in theory, but in the most personal, lived sense.

I was born and raised in small towns — Bhiwani and later Rohtak. Modest places, full of tradition and simplicity. And yet, despite the cultural norms, despite the rules that often sought to limit girls, I never once felt “less than” for being a girl.

In fact, I felt powerful. Fortunate. Chosen.

I grew up hearing many of my classmates and friends say, “If only we had been boys, life would’ve been so much more fun.”
I could never relate to that.

What’s so liberating about staying out late?
Why is freedom measured only in timing and restrictions?
To me, being a girl meant having more colors to wear, more emotions to explore, more roles to shape. It was a privilege — not a limitation.

And a lot of that perspective came from home.

My father — a progressive, loving, and quietly revolutionary man — never made me feel like I had to prove my worth. Instead, he celebrated it.
He called me “Jhansi ki Rani” — and not in jest, but with genuine pride.
He didn’t just raise a daughter. He raised a leader, a thinker, a woman who would never wait for permission to be herself.

He cooked for us. He babysat when I stepped out — not just for work, but for pleasure, for leisure, for freedom. He cared — but he never caged.

And through that care, he taught me one thing that shaped my life:
Power isn’t what you’re given. Power is what you carry within you.

Over time, I came to believe — not out of ideology, but observation — that God has, in many ways, made women more capable, more layered.
We carry life. We nurture from the womb. We hold space — for pain, for others, for healing. That’s not inferiority. That’s not fragility.
That’s divine strength.

I’ve never believed that women should learn to cook because one day they’ll have to.
They should learn because they are natural nurturers — and knowing how to nourish is not a duty, but a gift. That doesn’t make them less equal; it makes them more complete.

Yes, men can be phenomenal chefs — the world’s best often are.
But cooking, caregiving, emotional intelligence — these are not tasks. They’re tools of connection. And if women are better at them, that is not a weakness. That is wisdom.

Today, as a mother of two daughters, I feel proud that I’ve raised them to know they are equal — but not entitled.
They are strong, but that strength must be tempered with empathy.
They have rights — but also responsibilities.

Because the truth is, women are not weak — but we live in a world where others’ weakness can become our burden.
And unless we raise our boys right, teach them to honor women not out of fear but understanding — this imbalance continues.

We must change our mindset, not just our slogans.
Equality doesn’t begin in lawbooks. It begins in living rooms.

I never gave anyone permission to make me feel inferior.
And I never will.