From childhood, I have heard a statement repeated endlessly—on television, in movies and in casual conversations, and in the world around me: "A woman is a woman’s own biggest enemy."
I never peeked into the statement. I accepted it blindly. I believed that perhaps a man could be a woman’s friend—someone who could support her, stand by her, help her do what she wanted to do. Over time, however, I began to notice something uncomfortable. Often, it is women who help men build ladders, hoping that in return they might earn a man’s friendship.
There are very few stories of women building castles for each other.
Most stories are about men building castles for women.
According to the National Union of Public and General Employees (NUPGE), the "Pink Tax Phenomenon"—the systemic practice of pricing women’s products higher than men’s—imposes a literal cost on being female. This is not accidental. It is one of the many subtle ways a patriarchal system trains women to believe they need help, permission, or male proximity to survive and succeed. And in that struggle, women often end up competing with each other instead of supporting one another.
At the same time, a woman must work twice as hard as a man to secure the same job or position and the same recognition. In this high-stakes environment, we often find women fighting one another for the single "seat at the table" instead of dismantling the table together.
History and mythology offer us a glimpse of something different. We remember goddesses and historical figures who won battles not because they sought war, but because they could not find peace in the world around them. They brought justice to their own kind. Yet, even today, a woman has to do something extraordinary to be respected as a human being rather than just a "gendered category."
We celebrate figures like Sunita Williams as extraordinary, intelligent humans. But countless women are doing their jobs well every single day. That kind of life is rarely celebrated. It isn’t considered impressive. It isn’t “shiny.” A woman who does not seek validation from a man, who simply wants to move forward as a human being, often disappears from admiration.
A woman has to do something exceptional to be respected—not as a woman, but as a human being.
This is what Jill Stoddard, writing for Psychology Today, identifies as the "Likability Trap." Citing the work of Alicia Menendez, Stoddard notes that:
"Women must be likable, but likable women are seen as less competent. The more successful and competent a woman becomes, the less she is seen as likable."
Stoddard observes that when a woman reaches for the "golden ring" and shares her success, it is often viewed as problematic by the men closest to her—even if they aren't consciously aware of their bias.
This leads me to a vital question:
Why must women always feel the need to impress men?
why does validation and likability so often come from men?
We must also acknowledge that not all women enter the battle of life from the same starting line. There are girls raised with absolute equality, and there are those raised under the heavy weight of social oppression. When they meet in the real world, the contrast is stark. The privileged move through life with an ordinary ease, while those who had to fight for every second of their existence become intense, powerful—and often, understandably jealous.
An article published by Dear Media notes how women were historically pitted against one another—competing for men, jobs, and limited space at the table. This narrative dominated earlier generations, presenting success as a zero-sum game. But over time, media and culture began to shift. We saw women leaning on each other in Friends. We saw Sex and the City redefine female companionship in a world obsessed with male approval.
In this generation, many women have finally lifted the blindfolds. We are starting to truly see each other. We are beginning to build castles for one another. The women who do not seek superficial validation—the ones who fought ten times harder to stand beside their "sisters"—are the ones redefining the future.
Yes, in the pursuit of achievement, women can be jealous. Women can become enemies to other women, just as they can to men. There is no exception for human nature. But the judgment remains skewed:
When a woman plays a hard hand to protect her voice, she is called jealous. When a man does the same thing, he is called smart.
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