There was a time when I cared far too much about what people thought. Not because they were wiser, or because they knew me better than I knew myself, but because, like many women of my generation, I was raised to believe that approval mattered. Approval from family. Approval from relatives. Approval from society. Approval of teachers. Approval from complete strangers who somehow felt qualified to comment on how I should live my life.
Then life happened.
Cancer happened.
Motherhood happened.
Challenges happened.
And somewhere along the way, I realised something important: the people who had opinions about my life were rarely the ones living it.
After cancer, I slowly began rebuilding myself. Not with grand declarations or dramatic transformations, but through small acts of courage that accumulated over time. I started making choices based on what felt right to me rather than what looked acceptable to everyone else.
I began wearing clothes because I liked them. Not because they fit somebody else's expectations of how a woman my age should dress. It sounds simple, doesn't it? Yet many women spend years dressing for approval rather than comfort, confidence, or joy.
Then I started earning my own money. Not because I wanted to prove anything to anyone, but because earning gave me something precious—a stronger voice in my own life. Financial independence didn't just change my bank balance; it changed the way I saw myself. It gave me choices. And choices are a form of freedom.
I started travelling alone when necessary. I made decisions without consulting a committee of critics. I stopped seeking permission for things that required only my own consent. The world didn't collapse. The sky didn't fall. The neighbours survived.
In fact, life became lighter.
Some people approved. Some didn't. And that's when I discovered one of adulthood's best-kept secrets: other people's approval is optional. Helpful sometimes. Necessary almost never.
Think about a crow for a moment.
If you offered a crow the keys to a luxury car, what would happen? Absolutely nothing. The crow wouldn't be impressed. It wouldn't suddenly feel more successful. It wouldn't compare itself to other crows. It would simply fly away and continue being a crow because the car has no value in its world.
These days, that's how I feel about unnecessary approval.
If advice comes from people who genuinely care about me, I'll listen. If criticism helps me grow, I'll consider it. But random judgement, unsolicited opinions, and endless commentary about how women should dress, earn, travel, age, or dream? No, thank you.
Life has taught me that there is a difference between seeking guidance and seeking validation. Guidance can help us grow. Validation can become a cage if we depend on it too much.
I spent too many years worrying about fitting into someone else's idea of who I should be. These days, I am far more interested in becoming who I am.
The older I get, the more freedom I feel. Not because life has become easier, but because I have stopped handing other people the power to decide whether my choices are acceptable.
So wear the outfit.
Take the trip.
Learn the skill.
Earn the money.
Change direction.
Start over if you need to.
The people who disapprove will think about it for a few minutes. You will live with the consequences—or the rewards—for years.
Choose the life that feels right to you.
After all, a crow doesn't need a car.
And neither you, nor I, nor anyone else needs everyone's approval to live life fully.
— Farida
