The Class That Helped Me Find My Voice
Growing up as a teenager under Taliban restrictions, I learned to be silent long before I learned to speak up for myself.
Silence wasn’t just expected of me, it became my way of surviving. As an Afghan girl, I grew up being taught to obey, to lower my gaze, and to think strength meant enduring in silence, not speaking my truth. Questioning felt dangerous. Speaking my feelings out loud felt impossible.
For years, I searched outside myself for approval, safety, and a sense of belonging. But when I joined the Voices Unveiled Self-Empowerment Course, something shifted. Maybe it wasn’t about finding something new, but about uncovering a voice I had buried long ago under fear and silence.
Walls Built From Fear
I carried a weight inside me that no one else could see—wrapped tightly around my chest, shaping how I moved through the world. I was always running, chasing a version of success that never truly felt like mine. Before I even knew who I was, I had learned to suppress my feelings and silence my questions.
So I built walls, not to keep others out, but to protect myself from the parts of me I didn’t know how to face. Inside my mind, I felt safe. There, I didn’t have to explain myself, or fear being judged, misunderstood, or dismissed. Silence became my armor and a way to survive in a world that rarely listened to female voices, like mine.
Yet even in that constant quiet, a small part of me kept wondering what it might feel like to be seen—fully and without fear.
A Class That Became a Lifeline
When I first signed up for the Voices Unveiled Self-Empowerment and Feminism Class, I wasn’t expecting anything transformative. I thought it would just be another certificate and proof that even as an Afghan girl banned from formal education, I was still trying to learn.
But then I received a welcome message from the teacher. I can’t explain why, but that message felt different. That night, I couldn’t sleep—not from anxiety, but from something unfamiliar: hope.
From the very first session, I knew this space was unlike anything I had known. It wasn’t a lecture or a checklist, it was a sacred space. Every session was filled with voices that carried truth, pain, hope.
Girls like me—brave, broken, bold—came together and began stitching ourselves back together with every word we shared.
Lessons We Were Never Meant to Learn
We read stories of women from around the world—not stories polished by textbooks, but raw, honest stories of survival and resistance. In them, I saw reflections of myself. Every act of defiance sparked something inside me that had been quiet for so long.
The most powerful lessons were the “forbidden” ones—the things we had been taught to keep silent on and never ask about. We spoke openly about our bodies, health, emotions, and rights.
One moment I will always remember was when a doctor joined our class, not to lecture us, but to listen. The space felt so safe that we dared to ask questions we had buried inside ourselves for years.
Some of us had been taught harmful myths about our female bodies; others hadn’t been taught anything at all. But that day, we were met with compassion instead of shame.
For the first time in my life, I didn’t feel embarrassed. I felt seen and empowered.
These lessons weren’t shameful—we were learning vital information that we had been denied for so long. We also challenged harmful beliefs passed down to us in the name of tradition. As we questioned them together, I felt lighter, like I was finally shedding skin that never belonged to me.
Finding Strength in Stillness
Journaling became my quiet rebellion. I had always believed silence was strength, but through writing, I began to untangle the tight knots in my chest. I poured out anger, grief, confusion, and hope—and in return, slowly, I found clarity. My journal became a mirror reflecting a version of me I was finally beginning to know.
Meditation offered another kind of healing. Growing up as an Afghan girl, where every moment carried expectation and control, it taught me to pause and breathe. Even brief moments of stillness gave me courage to keep going.
The guest speakers that came into our safe space also made a huge impact on me. They spoke honestly about the struggles they had faced and the strength it took to keep going. When I told Zainab Salbi, “I want to be like you,” she smiled and replied, “I want you to be better than me.” No one had ever spoken to me with that kind of belief before.
Becoming My Own Voice
This class didn’t just happen to me — I chose it. I showed up, even when I felt small. I asked the questions I was once too afraid to voice. I shared thoughts that had lived silently inside me for years, even when my voice trembled. Slowly, I became the girl who not only listened, but also encouraged others to speak. Because we all understood the quiet fear that shadowed us, the same unspoken weight resting on each of our shoulders. In the Self Empowerment class, we learned we didn’t have to hold it alone.
Through those choices, I discovered something I never understood before: strength isn’t the absence of fear; it’s choosing to keep going, even when you’re afraid. That’s when the words of Rumi, a poet whose wisdom has always felt like it was written for me, stopped feeling distant and became my own truth:
“What you seek is not outside of you. Everything in the universe is within you. Seek all that you desire — within, for you are it.”
I realized I’m not broken or missing anything. Everything I had been searching for outside — courage, worth, belonging — was always inside me, waiting to be welcomed. I no longer measure my value only by what I achieve. I’ve learned to see who I am, imperfections and all, as something deeply worth honoring.
This Is Just the Beginning
I carry the strength of the women who came before me — those who weren’t allowed to speak, but dreamed anyway. I will keep going, not only for myself, but for every Afghan girl still trying to find the safety to hear her own voice.
I’m not the same person who began this journey; I know myself better now. And I know what I want next: to keep speaking, keep questioning, and help create spaces where other Afghan girls can do the same.
I want to do for others what Voices Unveiled did for me.
I want to build spaces where girls can ask questions without shame, share without fear, and discover they were never truly voiceless. Spaces where silence can be transformed into confidence, and courage becomes the first step toward freedom. Because I’ve learned firsthand how life-changing it is when just one girl feels safe enough to speak and realizes her voice was never lost, only waiting to be heard.
I’m deeply grateful for this experience. Opportunities like this are rare for Afghan women and girls, and I know how much it shaped me.
Voices Unveiled didn’t just help me speak; it helped me remember who I was before the silence, and who I still have the power to become. And now, I hold that light in my hands — ready to pass it on, so others can find their way, too.
- *Samaneh, age 19, refugee currently in Pakistan
Note: *Not her real name. All names have been changed to protect identities.