The Weight Women Quietly CarryGrowing up as women in a culture that measures us by more than ourselves.
We can talk about progress—about calling out gender inequality—but the truth is, it remains deeply embedded in our culture and social lives. It’s an uncomfortable reality, one that persists despite how far we believe we’ve come. And in my culture, especially among people from my hometown, it feels even more pronounced. When I was younger, I didn’t question it much. I was too absorbed in my own world, too focused on my studies and personal life, to pay attention to anything beyond that. But as I grew older, built a life abroad and gained new experiences, gotten to know other cultures, I began to see things more clearly. I started to notice how Asian families, including my own, often overlook women. People may talk of gender equality, of their admiration for women’s accomplishments, but beneath it lies an imbalance. The standard for men to be seen as “good” or “successful” is often lower, while women are held to far higher expectations. We are expected to excel, to prove ourselves repeatedly and even then, it rarely feels enough. You can earn degrees, climb the corporate ladder, move across the world or choose a different path entirely. Yet, as a woman shaped by Asian culture, your worth is still so often measured by the partner you choose. If he is successful, attractive and accomplished, people will admire you, almost as if his qualities validate your own. And even when you exceed expectations, even when you are more capable or accomplished than the sons they compare you to, your value is still reduced to that choice. To the man you stand beside, rather than the person you’ve become. That’s just the reality of it.
My sister graduated just last year. She spent most of that time building a career out of something she’s genuinely passionate about. But I noticed something the moment she returned home after finishing her degree abroad. Instead of being congratulated for graduating with honors, or recognized for earning a merit-based scholarship, people asked her a different kind of question: Do you have a boyfriend? At the same time, a male relative of ours, who graduated around the same time, was met with an entirely different response. People asked if he needed help finding a job, offered their connections, sympathized with how difficult the job market is right now, and showed genuine interest in his future plans, even asking whether he intended to continue his studies. The contrast was just impossible to ignore. So how do we cope with something like this?Because the truth is, what I witnessed with my sister wasn’t an isolated moment. It was a reflection of something much deeper. Something many of us, as women, are sadly already familiar with. No matter where we go, how far we move, or what we achieve, these expectations have a way of following us. And the harder truth is this: you cannot undo generations of conditioning overnight. Culture, especially one that has been deeply embedded for so long, does not shift in the span of a single lifetime. Trying to change it entirely can feel exhausting—most times even futile. But that doesn’t mean we are powerless. If we cannot rewrite the past, we can at least be intentional about the future. We may not be able to change the perspectives of older generations, but we can choose how we respond to them. More importantly, how we shape the environment for those who come after us. Change, in this sense, becomes quieter. More personal. But no less significant. And part of that is choosing not to internalize the same standards that diminished us. Don’t stoop to their level. Not because we are above them, but because continuing the same patterns only ensures they survive. Many of them, at some point in their lives, likely endured the same, if not worse. And yet, the absence of empathy can still sting. But that is precisely why it matters that we choose differently.
We remind ourselves—constantly, if we have to—that our worth is not something to be negotiated in conversations like those. It is not defined by who stands beside us, but by the life we are building for ourselves. By our won sense of fulfillment, pride and direction. And that’s not always easy to hold onto. Because if there’s one quiet truth about being a young adult today, it’s that very few people are as “fine” as they claim to be. Not in this economy and certainly, not in this world that demands so much while offering so little certainty in return. We are all, in some way, figuring things out as we go, trying our best to build something stable out of instability. So take it one day at a time. Find grounding in your own progress, however small it may seem. Celebrate the things that matter to you, even when others don’t see their value. And when the noise gets too loud, when expectations start to feel suffocating, come back to yourself. Because at the end of the day, that is the one place where your worth has always been yours to define. Sincerely, Cherie. The Whiffler is free today. But if you enjoyed this post, you can tell The Whiffler that their writing is valuable by pledging a future subscription. You won't be charged unless they enable payments.
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