Invisible Scars Behind Closed Doors

By Shreya Manoj and Sparsh Gupta

Picture a woman walking across a narrow bridge - one side lined with dreams and emotions, the other with duties, deadlines and family. One wrong step, and something slips. Yet somehow, she keeps walking, being steady, graceful and unshaken. But beneath that quiet grace lies a truth too heavy to carry, a world that keeps hurting her and calls it “normal.”

She doesn’t wear a cape or make headlines. But in her quiet ways, she saves worlds, not with power, but with patience, love and resilience. She is every woman who carries the weight of the world and still finds the strength to smile. Yet behind that grace sits a silence the world refuses to hear, a silence shaped not by choice, but by pain.

This silence isn’t just hers, it is echoed in a world where being a woman often means being unsafe. Everyday, somewhere, a woman’s scream is drowned out by society’s silence, a girl is blamed for being out late, a rapist walks free because of “lack of evidence”, an acid attacker smiles as she hides her scars. And even after all of this the rest of the world just scrolls past, mourns and moves on leaving her story behind like it never happened until some other case happens again and the cycle repeats. 

The violence follows her in streets, homes, workplaces and even in silence. According to the World Health Organization, one in three women globally has faced physical or sexual violence in her lifetime. In India alone, National Crime Records Bureau (NCRB) data shows that a woman is subjected to some form of violence, be it domestic abuse, dowry-related harassment, or sexual assault, every few minutes.

And apart from these visible scars, a woman also faces violence that leaves lasting wounds on her mind , the kind that doesn’t bleed but breaks her from within. Some of it hides in words that belittle, in expectations that suffocate, and in the loneliness of not being understood. This unseen hurt, the mental and emotional weight she bears is also a form of violence. Yet even with these wounds, the visible ones and the ones she never speaks about, the world does not pause for her. Life keeps moving, and she is expected to move with it, carrying her pain into every new day as silently as she carries her strength.

Even in this storm, she continues to multitask her way through life. Her days are a blur of roles, a professional meeting a deadline, a mother listening to her child’s laughter from the next room, a daughter checking on her parents, a wife planning dinner while mentally ticking off tomorrow’s to-do list. A thousand thoughts swirl in her mind, yet she finds rhythm in the noise and calm in the chaos. And in all this multitasking, she forgets one simple thing that’s herself. Her dreams quietly move to the backseat, replaced by responsibilities she never complains about. Because somewhere, she was taught that love means putting everyone else first.

But here’s the truth, even the strongest hearts need rest. Even the most loving souls deserve to be cared for. The pressure to be perfect, the expectation to sacrifice, the judgment that follows any choice she makes   is also a form of emotional violence. A form of harm that doesn’t bruise the skin, but breaks the spirit. Words that belittle, expectations that suffocate, and loneliness that whispers she’s never enough are wounds the world never sees.

The world mistakes her grace for ease and her patience for limitless strength. It applauds her for “doing it all” yet never pauses to see the quiet struggles behind her smile or the exhaustion hidden beneath her love. Societal expectations bind her  telling her when to marry, how much to dream, how perfectly to perform every role. When she sacrifices, she’s celebrated and when she chooses herself, she’s judged and called selfish. But beyond all of this, the first thing she truly deserves is safety,  a world where she is not scared to step outside, where crimes against her do not rise each day, where she is not fighting for basic dignity before she can even dream. She deserves not just appreciation, but protection, equality and the freedom to be valued for who she is, not for how much she endures.

Physical and emotional violence are not separate battles, they are two sides of the same wound. When a woman is hit, humiliated, silenced, or blamed, it isn’t just her body that hurts, it’s her spirit that breaks. This cycle of abuse, fueled by silence and stigma, keeps generations of women trapped in fear and shame. And the biggest cruelty is how rarely justice stands with women. Complaints get ignored, cases drag for years, survivors fight alone while the system looks away. Justice delayed becomes justice denied and justice denied becomes violence repeated. Yet even in a world that fails her, she is expected to endure, to adjust, to stay silent.

But Women were never meant just to adjust, rather they were meant to create, to lead, to change the world in their own ways. And when they are given the space to breathe and the freedom to choose, they don’t just rise -they lift the world with them. So let’s stop calling her a “superwoman” for holding everything together and start reminding her that she doesn’t always have to.

On this International Day for the Elimination of Violence Against Women, we must remember that not all scars are visible. Some live quietly in her mind long after the world forgets her story. Our responsibility is not just to feel outrage, but to build a world where she feels safe to exist, to speak and to dream without fear

“Violence against women doesn’t begin with a raised hand, it begins with a silent world. Let’s break the silence so the cycle finally ends.”