Re-aligning what mothers give daughters and rethinking what they gain in return.
What did my mother give me? She gave me roti, kapda, makaan—food, clothing, shelter—and, most importantly, an education. These were the tools with which I built my life. With them, I found my footing in the world. I was able to create a decent life for myself because my mother ensured I had the essentials I needed to survive.
Was it adequate? Yes. But barely.
I am grateful that I never had to wonder where my next meal would come from or whether I would have a door to lock at night. But was I truly ready for the world? No.
I earned a degree. But was I encouraged to dream beyond the familiar script—find a job, get married, have children, build a house? I built a family life, but did I understand what equality in relationships should look like? I secured a job, but did I have the confidence to raise my voice against injustice or unfairness? I gained social standing, but was I allowed to exist as I am?
So here I am, trying to give my daughter the things I now believe are just as essential as roti, kapda, makaan, and education.
What am I giving my daughter?
I am giving her choices that are not limited by gender. I am giving her the space to dissent—to say no without fear or hesitation. I am giving her the support to pick herself up after every fall. I am giving her room to exist as she is, rather than as others expect her to be.
I am giving her the freedom to try, to experiment, to explore—and, most importantly, to fail.
And I remind her, constantly, that if something is not working, it is okay to walk away. To cut her losses. To begin again.
I hope what she gains from this is more than survival.
I hope she gains the courage and confidence to chase her dreams, claim her space, and meet failure without losing herself.
This, too, is inheritance.
Aswathy S (Writer, Homemaker, and Mother of Two Teenagers)
