The Myth of the “Strong Woman” Is Hurting Women Everywhere

There’s a particular image that’s been sold to women for generations. She is the “strong woman”—the one who never cries, never complains, never asks for help. She carries the weight of the world on her shoulders with quiet grace, juggling careers, caregiving, trauma, and societal expectations with no visible crack in her armour. She shows up for everyone. She holds families together. She puts herself last. And she does it all without breaking a sweat.

At first glance, this might seem like a compliment. Who wouldn’t want to be seen as resilient, reliable, and tough? But behind this ideal is a deeply toxic narrative. It’s a story that tells women they are only valuable when they are invulnerable. That pain, exhaustion, and mental strain are weaknesses to be hidden rather than acknowledged. And that to be strong, a woman must be silent about her struggles.

This perception of strength is not only unrealistic… It’s damaging.

“We live in a society that expects girls to smile through pain, succeed without support, and stay quiet about what’s hurting them. That pressure to be endlessly resilient is not strength—it’s silence. And it’s costing too many girls their well-being” says Linsey Lunny, CEO of Hidden Strength

It trains women to internalize stress, suppress emotion, and power through burnout. It tells them to downplay pain, whether physical, emotional, or psychological. The pressure to maintain the façade of control leaves little space for rest, recovery, or asking for help. For many, the result is a quiet deterioration of mental health that goes unnoticed by the world until it becomes unmanageable.

The reality is that women—regardless of their perceived strength—are not immune to anxiety, depression, or trauma. They are not invincible to the effects of caregiving fatigue, workplace stress, grief, or hormonal shifts. Yet society too often labels their struggles as failures of character rather than natural responses to overwhelming pressure.

This is especially true for women of color, single mothers, and those working in caregiving professions or under financial strain. These women are frequently expected to demonstrate superhuman endurance, and their expressions of distress are often ignored, minimized, or pathologized. The cultural script leaves little room for nuance or compassion: you’re either strong or you’re not.

And heaven forbid a woman says she’s not okay.

When women speak up about their struggles, they often face judgment. They are told they’re being dramatic, emotional, or unstable. They are encouraged to “keep it together” for the sake of their children, their partners and their coworkers. Their pain is held against them in professional settings. Their emotional expression is framed as a liability rather than a sign of self-awareness.

“Young girls are just like everyone else—they go through heartbreak, loss, pressure, and self-doubt. But too often, their struggles are dismissed. These are real issues with real weight and minimizing their reality can have catastrophic consequences,”  Continues Lunny.

True strength is not about pretending everything is fine. It’s about knowing when to rest, when to reach out, and when to draw boundaries. It’s about recognizing your limits and having the courage to say, “I need help.” That’s not weakness—that’s wisdom.

Allowing women to express their pain, frustration, and sadness without fear of judgment is essential to both individual and collective healing. When we shift our understanding of strength to include softness, self-reflection, and honesty, we create space for women to be full, complex human beings.

Mental health must be part of the conversation. That means celebrating women who go to therapy, who cry in front of their friends, who take mental health days, who leave toxic environments, who prioritize themselves—not just those who power through it all without complaint.

It also means rejecting the expectation that women must be everything to everyone. The “strong woman” myth teaches us that a woman’s worth lies in how well she sacrifices. But real strength is not about self-erasure. It’s about self-connection. It’s about knowing who you are when the noise fades.

We don’t need more women collapsing behind closed doors while the world praises their composure. We need more honesty. More softness. More support. We need to honour the full spectrum of strength—messy, emotional, raw, and real.

Because the strongest thing a woman can do is not suffer in silence. It’s to speak her truth, claim her space, and let the world know that being human is not a flaw. It’s a fact.