Writing, Witnessing and the Power of Women’s Voices

Every year, International Women’s Day brings with it a familiar rhythm: marches, speeches, placards, social media posts, and public declarations of solidarity. The streets fill with voices demanding equality, justice, safety and recognition. These collective moments matter deeply. They remind us that progress has always been shaped by women who spoke, wrote, resisted and imagined something better.

And yet, alongside the public noise, there is another, quieter layer to this day — one that Lapidus has always held space for. It is the private, often unseen relationship women have with words. The letters never sent. The journals hidden in drawers. The poems written at kitchen tables after everyone else has gone to sleep. The stories shaped by grief, care, anger, joy and survival.

Writing has long been a refuge and a form of resistance for women, especially those whose voices have been marginalised or dismissed. When public platforms were denied, words became places to stand.

Writing as witness

For many women, writing is not about performance or publication. It is about witnessing their own lives. Naming what has been endured. Making sense of contradictions: strength and exhaustion, love and resentment, hope and fear existing side by side.

In wellbeing-focused writing spaces, women often speak of the relief of being able to write without being corrected, judged or rushed. Free from the pressure to be articulate, productive or inspirational, writing becomes an act of truth-telling. Sometimes that truth is messy. Sometimes it is quiet. Sometimes it is furious.

On International Women’s Day, it is worth remembering that wellbeing is not separate from justice. The personal and the political remain deeply entangled. Writing allows women to explore how structural inequalities show up in their bodies, relationships and inner narratives — and to do so at their own pace.

From silence to shared language

Lapidus’s work sits at an important intersection: between personal writing and collective meaning-making. When women come together to write — whether in workshops, community groups, research spaces or publications — something shifts. Private experiences gain language. Patterns emerge. Isolation softens.

Writing for wellbeing does not ask women to explain themselves or prove their pain. It offers something more humane: time, permission and attentive listening. In these spaces, stories are not extracted; they are offered. They are not “case studies”; they are lived realities.

For women whose voices have been excluded from traditional publishing routes, the opportunity to be heard — and sometimes published — can be profoundly affirming. It says: your words matter, exactly as they are.

Care as a radical act

International Women’s Day often celebrates resilience. But resilience, without care, can become another burden. Writing for wellbeing offers a gentler counterbalance. It recognises that rest, reflection and emotional honesty are not luxuries; they are necessities.

Choosing to write — especially in community — can be a radical act of self-care in a world that often demands women keep going, keep giving, keep coping. Through writing, women can reclaim agency over their narratives, redefine success, and honour the complexity of their lives.

This is particularly important for women working in caring professions, education, health, community and activism — those who hold space for others while quietly carrying their own stories.

Looking forward

As we mark International Women’s Day 2026, Lapidus continues to champion writing as a practice that supports wellbeing, dignity and connection. Not by offering easy answers, but by creating conditions where women can explore their own questions — safely, creatively and ethically.

The marches will continue. The banners will rise. And alongside them, pens will move across pages. In notebooks, workshops, research journals and shared publications, women will keep writing themselves into visibility.

Because every movement needs not only slogans, but stories. And every story deserves a space to be written.