PAKISTAN: My Pen Became My Protest

Lairab faced restrictions growing up. But when she found writing, she discovered what true freedom meant, a kind of freedom no one could take, and began dismantling the invisible cage around her, word by word.

"I want girls to know that even if you can't escape the cage, you can build wings inside it. You can grow ideas in the dark. You can find power in the page."

I learned the meaning of freedom by living without it—not from books or speeches, but from feeling its absence in the quiet moments of everyday life.

I learned it the way many women in my part of the world do. Like when I wanted to ride a bicycle and was told girls don't do that.

Or when I asked too many questions and was met with silence, or worse, shame.

Or when I watched boys walk out the door without permission, while I was taught that my place was inside—safe, unseen, and silent.

Growing up in Pakistan, I learned that “freedom” doesn’t mean the same thing to everyone. For girls like me, it was never about rights or independence. It was about restrictions wrapped in the language of protection. I was told that good girls don't talk too much, don't go out too much, don't study too much, and certainly don't dream too much. We are to be emotional, soft-spoken, and obedient. And we are told we must be careful because outside, there are men who wait to devour us with their eyes and intentions. That is our reality.

Let me be clear: being a housewife, being a caregiver, building a home—these are beautiful roles. When forced upon you, they become a prison with invisible walls. Not because the walls are visible, but because they live in your mind, stitched into your identity so tightly you forget who you were before they were placed there.

As a child, I watched Western shows on television. I saw girls driving cars, speaking freely, laughing loudly, studying science, becoming lawyers, and astronauts. They weren't afraid to speak, to lead, to exist. It stirred something inside me. A question began to grow:

“Why can't I have that, too?”

I didn't know it then, but that question was my rebellion. Quiet, invisible, but powerful.

I wasn't allowed to go far for higher education. I was told that girls who study too much become "too opinionated." I was told my future would be inside a home, not in classrooms, not in offices, and certainly not on public platforms. But my mind refused to shrink. My world was small, but my questions were not.

So I found freedom in the only place left to me: writing.

Writing didn't need permission. It didn't need transport. It didn't care about how I looked or what hour it was. I could write at midnight or at dawn. I could whisper into the page all the words I wasn't allowed to speak aloud.

Slowly, my pen became my protest. My voice. My way out.

Through writing, I've begun to touch the world beyond my walls. I've connected with women across countries, cultures, and continents—many of whom have lived their own versions of confinement. And in that connection, I've found not only empathy, but power. Because the act of sharing my story is my freedom. Every word I write is a brick removed from the invisible walls around me.

I still live in the same society. The roads are still dangerous, the stares persist, the judgment has not disappeared.

But I have changed.

Now, when I write, I don't just write for myself. write for the girl I was, and the girls who still sit silently in corners, hiding their dreams behind their eyes. I want them to know that even if you can't escape the cage, you can build wings inside it. You can grow ideas in the dark. You can find power in the page.

I once believed freedom was a place—maybe a Western country, maybe somewhere else. But now I understand: freedom is a mindset. It begins inside you, when you dare to question, to resist, to dream. I've never stood on Western soil. But in many ways, I live that dream: not of wealth or luxury, but of becoming the author of my own story.

And that is what I've learned about freedom by living without it.

STORY AWARDS

This story was published as part of World Pulse's Story Awards program. We believe every woman has a story to share, and that the world will be a better place when women are heard.