No matter what women do or who they are, they are never considered enough because the patriarchal system is designed to make them fail.
From the moment a girl takes her first breath, the world begins measuring her. Not by her dreams or her laughter, but by patriarchal standards she never agreed to. Her body is measured against beauty ideals, her intelligence against obedience, and her choices against tradition. And the scale is always tilted. No matter what she does, patriarchy finds a way to whisper: you’re too much… or you’re not enough.
Patriarchy is like a rigged game from the start. It means that the system is set up in a way where women are expected to follow rules that they didn’t create, and those rules are designed to keep them at a disadvantage, no matter how hard they try.
In this system, if a girl speaks her mind, she’s branded “too loud.” If she holds back, suddenly she’s “too meek.” If she studies hard and wants a career, she’s “too ambitious.” If she doesn’t, she’s “wasting her life.” If she marries, her identity is consumed by duty; if she doesn’t, she’s called selfish.
The cruel part in this system is this: every time a woman manages to meet one expectation, a new one springs up to remind her that she’s still falling short somewhere else. Success in one role is not celebrated; it just opens the door to a fresh round of criticism. They are never allowed to win, and in case they seem like winning, new standards of winning are brought up to bring them down and criticise them.
And this isn’t random. It’s deliberate. By keeping women forever striving, apologising, and second-guessing themselves, patriarchy ensures they never feel free, never feel whole. It’s a system designed to keep women believing they are always almost there, close, but never quite enough. And it keeps women following a finishing line that doesn’t even exist.
Every culture builds its own version of the “good woman” - the selfless mother, the dutiful daughter, the loyal wife, the tireless worker. These are impossible ideals that demand perfection in every direction, and women are measured against them daily. Even when a woman excels in one role, she is reminded of the roles she has failed to fulfil while pursuing the one: a brilliant professional who is told she is a “bad mother,” or a devoted mother who is told she “Wasted her degree and parents' money by choosing an 'easy' life.”
This constant reminder of lack ensures that no woman, no matter how accomplished, feels whole.
It is not just social expectations. Patriarchy has developed entire systems and concepts to keep women in their place while appearing “neutral” or even “progressive. “Let us look at them one by one:
This one is about an invisible barrier, where women climb up in their careers, but at some point, no matter how good they are, they just can’t seem to cross into those top leadership roles. It’s like there’s a ceiling made of glass; you can see what’s above, but you can’t get through. For example, a woman might rise to become a senior manager, but when it’s time to pick the CEO, somehow the job always goes to a man. It’s frustrating because the system says, you’re good… but not good enough to lead at the very top. This ceiling whispers to women that they can go far, but never far enough.
Now, let's say a woman does make it past that ceiling. But then comes the twist: she's often handed leadership or ‘Allowed’ to cross that glass ceiling when things are already falling apart. Maybe the company’s profits are down, or a political party is about to lose. That’s when she’s basically asked to steer a sinking ship. And if it crashes? People say, “See, women can’t lead.” But in reality, she was set up to fail. Imagine being given the wheel of a bus only when it’s already skidding off the road. It's unfair, right, but that’s the reality many women face.
This one comes from Greek mythology. Cassandra was a woman who could see the future, but because of a curse, nobody believed her predictions. Today, women who warn about injustice or unsafe practices often face the same thing. A woman might speak up about workplace harassment or corruption, but instead of listening, people dismiss her as “too emotional” or “overreacting.” It’s painful because she’s telling the truth, but her credibility is questioned simply because she’s a woman. Just like Cassandra was never believed in because of a curse. It seems like women are still carrying that curse with them.
While some women are fighting to break the glass ceiling, many don't even get that far because they’re stuck at the bottom, because they are stuck at the floor itself and that floor is “sticky,” which means low-paying, undervalued jobs like domestic work, factory shifts, receptionist, or cashier roles that offer almost no path upward. Where women are doing work, but there is no career progression, and hence no increase in their salaries. Imagine working day and night, but still being told, directly or indirectly, that this is as far as you’ll go. Patriarchy holds them down, not by accident, but by design. By telling them that this is the most they can get. So, the sticky floor is about having a situation where the floor or the condition is so sticky that it's almost impossible to lift your foot to move somewhere else.
Think of a pipe carrying water upward, but it keeps leaking at different points. That's what happens with women in careers. At school, in offices, in academia, talented women drop out at every stage. This is not due to the reason that they're less capable. It is more so because there’s a system that isn’t built around their realities. Maybe she takes a career break for caregiving, maybe the workplace is too hostile, or maybe she never got the mentorship and support from her family that men easily receive. And then people say, “Oh, she wasn’t committed enough,” when the truth is, the system pushed her out. The truth is, there is a leaky pipe that ensures she falls every time she tries to raise herself.
Tokenism comes when an organisation says, “Look, we have women in leadership, we’re progressive!” But if you look closely, it’s usually just one or two women in visible roles while the real structure underneath is still male-dominated. These women carry the weight of representing an entire gender. Imagine being the only woman in a boardroom where every word, every mistake, is magnified as if it defines all women in that setting. Men don't face that. Tokenism isn't real inclusion and will never be. It is just there to show off to others. And recently, most of the workspaces are using these tactics to show the broader community and gain their support that they promote women's empowerment.
The "maternal wall" is like an invisible barrier that working mothers hit at work. Once a woman has a child, people often assume she's less focused or ambitious, so promotions and opportunities quietly slip away. The Japanese author Michiko Aoyoma talks about it in one of her books titled “What You are looking for is in the library,” where in one of her stories she shows how a well-talented woman is stopped from promotion despite her will, ability, and talent to excel, just because she had just given birth to her baby. Her ability was questioned because of her motherhood and how she negotiates with herself to cope with this situation. We can also see many examples where a manager might give a big project to someone else, assuming "she'll be too busy with the baby or won’t be that focused." Meanwhile, fathers are often praised for being more "responsible." And what if a woman doesn't have kids? She faces judgment, too, just in a different way.
The “double bind” is like being trapped in a no-win situation. Women in leadership are expected to be approachable and nurturing, but at the same time, they’re also expected to be confident and decisive. If they lean into warmth, they’re often dismissed as too soft or not leadership material (Like men). But if they take charge and assert themselves, they’re labelled as bossy or cold. Think about Hillary Clinton's 2016 campaign. She was criticised for being both "too cold" and "too emotional," depending on the moment. This constant contradiction means women are judged more harshly, no matter what they do, making their leadership always seem up for debate.
The “queen bee syndrome” takes place when a woman in a position of power distances herself from other women instead of supporting them. It’s like she’s worked so hard to reach the top in a male-dominated space that she starts believing there’s only room for one, and if other women come, her position will be threatened. So, instead of opening doors for others, she may become overly critical of younger women, avoid mentoring them, or even side with male colleagues to keep her status secure. For example, a senior woman leader might downplay gender bias, saying "I made it without help," and expect others to do the same, rather than pushing for systemic change. This is rarely about women being inherently unsupportive. It often stems from surviving in environments where they had to adapt to patriarchal norms to succeed. Queen bee syndrome shows how unequal systems can pit women against each other instead of encouraging them to rise together.
Imposter syndrome is usually described as a personal feeling, like thinking you’re not good enough, even when you are. But for many women, that feeling is shaped by the system around them. When women rarely see others like themselves in leadership, it sends a quiet message that they don’t belong there. When their ideas are ignored in meetings or credited to someone else, it reinforces that doubt. Over time, this constant lack of recognition makes even capable women question their worth. So, the real problem is not that women are "too insecure." It is the patriarchy that creates environments where their confidence is constantly chipped away.
The “Pretty/Professional Paradox” is another tricky double standard women face. If a woman is “too pretty,” she’s often sexualized, seen as a distraction, or not taken seriously in professional spaces, by saying that she is there because of her looks. But if she doesn’t fit conventional beauty standards, she’s considered unsuitable for roles that require public interaction or leadership presence. This constant scrutiny turns appearance into yet another trap. Instead of focusing on their skills or contributions, women end up navigating endless judgments about how they look. It’s a reminder that under patriarchy, women are expected to strike a “perfect” balance that doesn’t exist in reality. For e.g., when I was going through a job description of one of the prestigious trusts, in their essential requirements, they had mentioned that they want a female candidate who is beautiful and well-mannered. I was so shocked to see people openly putting up such criteria. But it was real.
The “safety tax” is the extra price women pay just to move through the world. It’s not an official tax, but a daily, invisible cost. Women often spend more on safer transport, like taking a cab instead of a bus at night, avoiding late shifts, or buying clothes considered "appropriate" to reduce unwanted attention. There’s a constant emotional and mental load to planning routes, checking in with friends, not being too late at night, and staying alert. This energy goes into basic survival, while men often get to use that same time and focus on work, rest, or growth. The safety tax quietly reinforces inequality by making safety a personal burden for women instead of a shared societal responsibility.
Patriarchy often uses ideas like “family honour,” “purity,” or “reputation” as tools to control women. Girls might be denied education under the pretence of protecting them, or survivors of sexual violence are silenced, so the community’s image remains “untarnished.” Essentially, women are made responsible for everyone else’s morality. Their choices, their bodies, and even their voices become subject to judgment, creating a culture where fear and shame are powerful forms of control.
When women call out injustice or name oppression, they are often told they’re “Overreacting,” or “too sensitive.” This gaslighting makes them question their own perceptions and experiences. Patriarchy survives and grows on this self-doubt. If women start doubting themselves instead of questioning the system, it becomes easier for unfair treatment to continue unchecked. Over time, this silences resistance and makes speaking up feel risky or even irrational.
The tragedy is that over time, many women begin to believe this narrative. They apologise before speaking, compare themselves to impossible ideals, and sometimes police each other with the same patriarchal standards that oppress them. “She is too career-focused.” “She doesn’t take care of herself.” “She is not a good wife.” Patriarchy survives less because of men in power, and more because it trains women to doubt their own worth.
The "intersectional trap" shows how patriarchy hits some women even harder because of multiple identities. It traps a woman who is also marginalised by caste, race, class, sexuality, or disability. For example, a Dalit woman entrepreneur might be seen first as "Dalit" instead of being seen as skilled or capable. A disabled woman might be judged as not "womanly enough," and a queer woman will be dismissed as "confused." These overlapping biases create a harsh reality where no matter what these women achieve, society constantly tells them it's never enough. Patriarchy changes its tactics depending on identity, but the result is the same: women are made to feel inadequate, as if it's their destiny.
Yet women resist. They resist every day when they speak, when they walk away, when they refuse silence and speak up against what is wrong. Feminist thinkers and movements have shown us that the problem is not women’s lack but patriarchy’s insatiable hunger to control.
To say “I am enough” is not self-help jargon; it is a political act. It is a refusal to let systems define our worth. Women are enough when they choose ambition, when they choose rest, when they choose family, when they choose solitude, when they choose anything on their own terms.
Patriarchy was never designed for women to win. Its survival depends on women forever chasing approval that will never come. But the moment women recognise that they are already enough, that their lives, their choices, their bodies, and their voices are whole, the system begins to crack. And in those cracks, light pours in.