The Myth of ‘Our Home’

A Woman’s Journey Through Spaces That Never Belong

pic credit : AI

I’ve often wondered — is there really anything called ‘Own Home’ for women, especially in Indian society?

When we’re young, we are gently brainwashed with the idea that our husbands’ home will be our home. I still remember my mother saying, “Beta, apna ghar toh sasural hi hota hai.” And I, like every other naïve girl, believed it. I imagined a home filled with love, laughter, and security. 😊

But marriage opens your eyes faster than adulthood. The first time your husband gets angry and says, “Go back to your parents’ house if you’re not happy here,” you suddenly realize — this isn’t your home. 😒

And if destiny decides to turn you into a widow or divorcee, life takes an even sharper turn. You pack your emotional wounds and return to your parents’ home, hoping for comfort. But before you can settle, you hear your sister-in-law whisper to her husband (your brother), “How long will she stay here? This isn’t her home anymore.” That sentence cuts deeper than loneliness itself. 😞

So, you decide to earn, to stand tall, to rent a small place — something just yours. You decorate it with fairy lights, buy a soft rug, hang curtains that make you smile. You finally breathe and say, “This is my space… my home.” But if you delay for a few days in paying the rent, the landlord knocks on your door, to remind you, by saying, “Madam, rent due hai… aur waise bhi ye jagah aapki thodi na hai,” your heart sinks again. 🙁

Then comes the time when you buy a house — a real one — with your own hard-earned money. You think, finally, I have made it. But life has another joke waiting. One day your grown-up child says, “Maa, stop changing the furniture; this is not only your home.” You smile, but deep inside, you realize — even this place is borrowed love, not ownership. 😐

And when some women choose solitude — no husband, no in-laws, no children — society tags it differently. Neighbors say, “Poor thing, living all alone in that house.” Not one of them says, “She lives in her home.” 😢

And when we finally grow detached and whisper, “The world is my home,” the truth smiles back — because one day, even the world will ask us to leave. 🙃

So maybe, ‘home’ isn’t made of bricks, land, or signatures on papers.

Maybe, for a woman, home is the rare space where she’s not questioned, judged, or asked to leave.

A place where her soul can just be.** **✨

Don’t just give a woman a roof — give her a space where she belongs.

Make your mom, sister, wife, daughter, or daughter-in-law truly feel — at home. 🕊️ 💖

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