Beyond the “Happily Ever After”: The Rise of Independent Women

In fairy tales, princesses arrive in carriages—gowns sweeping marble floors, kingdoms waiting quietly beyond castle gates.

At the Polytechnic University of the Philippines, the closest thing sounds like a train announcement echoing through crowded speakers: “Paparating na sa Pureza Station. Approaching Pureza Station.”

The doors slide open, and the day’s story begins.

Students step out into the restless rhythm of Manila—jeepneys coughing smoke into the air, tricycles squeezing through narrow streets, vendors calling out breakfast meals to commuters rushing past. From the station, a familiar procession forms: backpacks slung over shoulders, notebooks tucked under arms, footsteps moving steadily toward the gates of PUP.

Among them are women who, like the heroines of childhood stories, are learning to navigate a world that often expects them to play smaller roles.

Fairy tales once taught girls that their stories unfolded through patience—that somewhere, a prince or a miracle would arrive to change everything. But the women of PUP seem to follow a different kind of narrative, one that feels closer to a training montage than a ballroom scene.

If a Disney song once asked, “How could I make a man out of you?”, the version playing on campus seems to ask something else entirely: How do women forge space for themselves in a world that still asks them to wait their turn?

At PUP, empowerment is not defined by a single heroic moment. It takes shape in the quiet but deliberate ways women assert themselves in everyday life—choosing to speak when interrupted, correcting assumptions about their abilities, refusing to shrink in spaces that expect them to.

These acts are not about simply enduring what is wrong, but about pushing against it, however small the action may seem. Each decision—to take up space, to challenge bias, to be heard—builds on the last, creating ripples that slowly reshape the rules that once confined them.

Here, the princess does not wait for the kingdom to notice or rescue her. She learns, adapts, and asserts herself in crowded hallways and classrooms, she persists in ways both visible and invisible—and in doing so, she writes her own story on her own terms.

Slaying Dragons Your Way

In fairy tales, dragons are obvious villains—massive creatures guarding castles or treasures. In real life, the dragons women encounter are quieter, often disguised as everyday experiences.

Sometimes, they appear on the walk to school.

“Pangbabastos, karaniwan from men. Kahit dumaan ka lang sa kalye, nakapants at blouse, subject pa rin ng kabastusan,” Clarisa shares in an interview with The Communicator. Her experience reflects a reality many women navigate daily—where public spaces are not always neutral, and where safety and comfort are not always guaranteed.

But these experiences are not simply endured. For many women, they become moments that demand awareness, boundaries, and, when possible, resistance—whether through calling out behavior, staying with groups, reporting incidents, or asserting presence in spaces that attempt to make them feel small.

What should be an ordinary commute through Manila can quickly turn into an uncomfortable reminder that simply existing in public spaces can invite unwanted attention.

Alongside harassment comes another kind of challenge—one that surfaces in classrooms, conversations, and group dynamics. It appears in interruptions during discussions, in ideas being overlooked until repeated by someone else, or in the quiet assumption that leadership and authority are still more naturally given to men.

“Parang ipinapamukha sa akin na hindi ko kaya dahil babae ‘lang’ ako… I am not taken seriously,” Clarisa adds.

These moments may not always be loud or explicit, but they accumulate. And it is within these spaces that women begin to respond—not by withdrawing, but by asserting themselves more deliberately.

Clarisa recalls such a moment. “I can't disclose the situation but what I can say is kung ano yung naramdaman ko noon. I felt like since babae ako at most sa group ay guys, hindi ganoon ka-important opinion ko.”

Moments like these may seem small to others, but they linger. They shape how people speak, when they speak, and whether they will speak at all. Yet many women choose to respond not with silence, but with persistence.

Raising a hand during a discussion. Offering an idea even when it might be dismissed. Continuing to participate despite the possibility of being overlooked.

Each of these decisions may seem ordinary on their own. But together, they form something much larger: micro-revolutions that challenge the expectations placed upon women.

The dragons, it turns out, are not defeated in a single battle.

They are worn down, day by day.

Claiming Your Throne

As these small acts accumulate, they begin to change the spaces around them.

Inside PUP’s classrooms and organizations, women are stepping into roles that once seemed out of reach—not because someone handed them a crown, but because they chose to claim the space themselves.

Leadership here rarely looks like the fairy tale image of a princess inheriting a throne. More often, it appears in quieter forms: facilitating group discussions, leading student initiatives, presenting ideas in rooms where women’s voices were once questioned.

For many women, the journey toward that confidence is built on resilience.

“Women go through so much and they survive,” Clarisa reflects, acknowledging the many pressures women often carry while continuing to pursue their ambitions as students.

But empowerment is rarely a solitary journey. It also emerges from connection—the relationships women build with one another inside classrooms, organizations, and shared campus spaces. Another respondent, Frances, points to the strength that grows from connection among women themselves.

“Una ay ang relasyon sa pagitan ng mga kababaihan, isang sisterhood na madalas ay bunga ng shared resilience at struggles. Pangalawa ay ang empathy ng mga kababaihan na hindi lamang resulta ng nature o biology, kundi ng karanasan.” Frances shares in an interview with The Communicator.

Through this sisterhood, courage becomes contagious. When one woman raises her voice, others find the confidence to follow. When one steps forward to lead, the path becomes clearer for those who come after.

And slowly, the story begins to change.

Women Empowers Women

Empowerment does not always arrive in big, defining moments. More often, it unfolds quietly—in routines, in choices, in the simple act of continuing.

For Clarisa, it is fortitude—the kind of strength that pushes her to move forward even when things feel uncertain. It is steady, patient, and built day by day.

For Jesse, it is katatagan—a resilience that allows her to rise, again and again. Not just to endure, but to keep growing through life’s challenges.

And for Frances, it is shared—a reminder that strength becomes greater when it is given and received. In these stories, empowerment is not fixed. It moves, it builds, and it lives in everyday acts that slowly create lasting change.

No Longer Waiting for a Prince

Long ago, stories taught girls to wait.

To wait for permission. 

To wait before speaking up.

To wait for a savior.

But inside the halls of PUP, women are not waiting to be rescued—they are moving.

In crowded classrooms and long lines, in early mornings and late submissions, they create their own versions of becoming. Not through grand, magical transformations, but through eventually developing into who they are meant to be.

The PUP women are constantly rewriting the definition of empowerment by performing simple acts of courage and strength on a daily basis. They speak up, stand firm in their beliefs, and occupy physical space to help change the meaning of empowerment. These individual stories illustrate that change does not need to be accomplished at some point or in some perfect time; it occurs every single day through courage, resilience, and the power of strength.

There are no glass slippers, no enchanted rescues—only everyday acts that look small but carry weight.

And if there is a “happily ever after,” it does not arrive like magic.

They make it themselves.

Article: Michelle Bose and Xyra Caryl Zaleta

Graphics: Janelle Vinluan