SHE rises at dawn, at 5am, juggling pots and pans to prepare breakfast, packing school lunch boxes with love, rushing through chaotic school runs, battling traffic to make it to work, and still returning home to cook dinner, check homework, respond to emails, and meet her husband’s needs.
Later, she posts a radiant selfie captioned “Superwoman.” We clap. We cheer. But beneath the cape and smile, is she truly soaring or silently burning out?
September brings the real hustle, schools reopening, businesses regaining momentum, and households shifting back into overdrive. For women, especially mothers, the balancing act tightens: career deadlines, school demands, and family expectations pile up like an endless to-do list.
Meet Mary, a polished banker whose mornings are marathons. Before sunrise, she whips up breakfast, dresses two children, conquers school traffic, and by 8:30 a.m., she’s at her desk, flawless and composed.
The evening returns her to gridlocked roads, hurried homework sessions, and the clatter of pots in the kitchen. Past midnight, her aching back collapses into bed, her restless mind racing. Yet, before sleep, she scrolls through social media, sees other women wearing the same invisible crown, and posts her own “Superwoman” selfie. Tomorrow, the cycle begins again.
We stand in awe of her strength, but here lies the harder question: is she really flying or is she slowly falling apart under the weight of unrealistic expectations?
Fatima, an entrepreneur, lives another version of the struggle. By day, she fights to keep her small business alive, while also caring for her ageing mother and three toddlers. Every evening, she collapses into bed, questioning if she has done enough. The world hails her resilience. Inside, she feels stretched thin, exhausted, and unseen.
This is the silent reality of countless women. Society has sold a dangerous myth: that a woman’s worth is measured by her ability to endure endlessly.
The “good woman” suffers in silence, multitasks without complaint, raises perfect children, builds a thriving career, supports everyone else, and still squeezes into a size-10 dress. Exhaustion is celebrated as strength. But what is the prize? No medal for sleepless nights. No award for hypertension or breakdowns. The truth is stark, there is no glory in suffering.
Behind the carefully curated smiles, many women are secretly fighting battles: anxiety, hormonal imbalances, crippling migraines, high blood pressure, and loneliness. They are afraid to say “I can’t handle this,” because society has conditioned them to equate asking for help with weakness. So, they burn out quietly, smiling for the camera.
True wisdom lies not in carrying everything alone, but in sharing the load. Delegating tasks—whether to a housemaid, a nanny, a driver, or family doesn’t diminish a woman’s strength; it safeguards her health and sanity. There is no medal for collapsing under the weight of responsibilities. Real strength is knowing when to pause, when to ask for help, and when to prioritise wellness.
Once upon a time, fathers proudly drove children to school, attended PTA meetings, and took responsibility for hospital visits. In many homes today, those roles have quietly shifted to mothers, who now bear the triple load of career, childcare, and household duties.
Fathers, once pillars of presence, are too often absent from these spaces. At school cultural days, tables once filled with proud fathers now sit nearly empty, while mothers carry the weight alone. What happened to the balance?
The strongest woman is not the one who suffers in silence. She is the one who knows her limits, builds support systems, and protects her mind and body from collapse. Suffering is not a crown, it’s a slow killer. Society must unlearn this glorification of pain disguised as strength.
Dear woman, you don’t need a cape to prove your worth. The bravest act is sometimes laying the cape aside, saying “no” without guilt, and choosing peace, balance, and life. Don’t wait for validation from a society that romanticises suffering. True power is not in how much pain you can carry, but in how wisely you protect yourself from it.
Maybe it’s time we retired the myth of the “Superwoman.” Not because women aren’t powerful, but because true power lies in knowing you don’t have to carry the world alone.
Voice has just cleared its throat!
- Kabara, is a writer and public commentator. Her syndicated column, Voice, appears on News Point Nigeria newspaper on Mondays. She can be reached on hafceekay01@gmail.com.