She wears a hijab in 35-degree heat, not always out of faith, but for her own safety. She walks with quiet strength through checkpoints and surveillance, constantly watched and judged by others. She is the woman in Afghanistan, in Sudan, and in Iran walking the narrow road between self-expression and survival. But she is also the woman in London, Barcelona, and LA, navigating a different battlefield, surrounded by opportunity and choice yet still entangled in contradiction.

This is the reality of modern womanhood, where feminism is a spectrum rather than a shared experience. Women's rights are stripped to nothing in some parts of the world and exaggerated into a performance in another. Even freedom can become a form of constraint when it exists to serve consumerism and the male gaze more than the woman herself.

Worn by will, not force

In Iran, women face up to ten years in prison for refusing to wear the hijab. In Afghanistan, they risk physical abuse for speaking in public or showing their faces. Although laws are gradually evolving, some women in Saudi Arabia still live under strict guardianship systems that allow their husbands full control over their lives. Yet within this control, feminism manifests in small but powerful ways. A woman walks with confidence in a space that seeks to belittle her or engages in eye contact with someone who expects her to look away. In cultures where women are practically invisible, these are acts of resistance. Feminism does not always have to shout; sometimes it forbodes in subtle gestures.

Some may ask, if women are fighting for the removal of the hijab in some countries, why do other women wear it so freely? The answer lies in the freedom of choice. Not all veils are symbolic of oppression. Many women choose to wear the hijab with pride, out of choice, tied to spiritual connection, modesty, and power over their own body. For these women, liberation lies in reclaiming their right to choose. But for others it is forced upon them, making it a symbol of control. The key difference is not in the garment itself, but in whether it was imposed or chosen. Choice is the real battleground; it’s the power of having the freedom to decide unapologetically with no force.

Women’s rights cannot be reduced simply to what females wear, it should be centred around why they wear it and whether that decision is authentic to them. Whether seeking modesty or resisting it, feminism can only function when women hold the power to make decisions for themselves, without having to justify themselves to men, the government, or even other women.

The false freedom of the hypersexual era

In other parts of the world, women embody a liberation forged by decades of activism and cultural evolution. Women can wear whatever they please, build businesses, and walk into both boardrooms and nightclubs with the same confidence. This confidence stems from intellectual, emotional, and financial freedom. A freedom grounded in the equality that generations of feminists fought for. Although somewhere along the line, the message has been misconstrued.

From self-love to spectacle: when feminism feeds the gaze

A new version of ‘liberation’ has entered the western world. British OnlyFans workers Lily Phillips and Bonnie Blue publicly claim liberation by fornicating with hundreds of men in a single day and televising it. While there is nothing wrong with sexual curiosity or exploration, the performance of hypersexuality as an act of feminism risks diluting the depth of what empowerment truly means. It makes a mockery of the women who died for the rights of women, reducing it to nothing but a spectacle. The idea of liberation is not based around how many men a female can sleep with; it’s about how many choices you can make that are truly your own. The moment feminism becomes a performance for the male gaze, it loses its power and becomes a parody.

In Josh Pieters YouTube docuseries ‘I slept with 100 men in one day,’ Lily Philips broke down in tears after having sexual intercourse with 100 men in the space of twenty-four hours. She admitted to the feeling of emptiness and disconnect and even expressed a sadness that not all the men had ‘gotten their full two minutes.’ In a moment meant to symbolize empowerment and sexual liberation, her deepest concern was still the pleasure of a man. This isn’t ‘liberation,’ it’s delusion dressed up as power. Despite telling herself she held the control, she was still performing for the gratification and approval of men. Meaning, her freedom of choice was dominated entirely by male desire.

Liberation will not leave you hollow. Worth is not measured by how well you please others. What Lily Philips had experienced was not sexual freedom; it was emotional destruction in a desperate attempt to reclaim power. Shackled by attention, profit, and male validation. When empowerment is reduced as low as self-objectification, who is really being served?

Being sexually free and having sex with whoever you please should be the own choice. Women should not be made to conform to a singular narrative of what femininity is. What truly matters is that the decision is made solely for you, not for approval, validation or performance. Many women can admit that after several sexual encounters, they feel a sense of emptiness and longing for more, later realizing that engaging with these men was a way to fill a void, search for real love or attention, or heal childhood wounds. For other women, this may not be the case, as some women genuinely enjoy sex, and that is completely valid too.

However, when sexual freedom turns into a televised event, or a strategy for fame with strangers whose names can’t even be remembered, it shifts into something a lot less empowering. It becomes a form of self-harm. For instance, after documenting sleeping with 100 men, Lily openly admitted she only remembered six of them and then began to dissociate, a clear trauma response. The fight for feminism has always been centred around the right to choose, and that includes the right to consciously choose with self-respect. In today’s age, there’s a fine line between sexual commodification and freedom. Between giving away your body for the approval and attention of others and owning it with dignity. When these lines blur, feminism begins to lose the long-fought depth it was built.

The other end of the spectrum: real exploitation

Beneath the surface of ‘sexual freedom’ lies an irony that while some women profit from sexual performance, others are trying to escape it. Countless females of all ages are trafficked or held as sex slaves around the world, however their names aren’t trending, and they don’t earn thousands of pounds through online content sites. Often hidden from the world, their pain Is muted by a media landscape more motivated in promoting spectacle and performance than addressing real suffering.

This stark contrast raises the question, if feminism is centred around choice, what happens when sexual exposure is weaponised in one context and celebrated in another? When a woman chooses to commercialize her body for the consumption of men, is that freedom or a captivity shaped by attention culture? Some may say that Lily Phillips and Bonnie Blue are subverting the male gaze by profiting from it, therefore reclaiming their sexuality. Despite the various viewpoints, one thing is clear, in the grand scheme of things, only a small percentage of women get to choose how their bodies are seen, the other millions have no choice whatsoever. Forced or voluntary, the same denominator is the objectification of women for the pleasure of men, and that isn’t progress.

One gender, worlds apart: the contradiction of being a woman today

Across the globe, womanhood is contradictory. In some countries, a woman is monetised and platformed for selling sex; in others she is killed or imprisoned. The Red-Light District in Amsterdam is seen as a sign of liberal progression for many, a place where sex work is supposedly both consensual and legal. Although, behind the neon-lit windows are stories the public rarely hears of: women trafficked, stripped of their passports and legal documents, and trapped in work they cannot leave. Some women, of course, choose to work in this field and are not dealing with these complexities. Again, the line between coercion and freedom blurs.

In the discussion around modesty, the same paradox exists. In Iran, women are protesting on the streets for the right not to wear the hijab, risking physical abuse and imprisonment. Meanwhile, in other parts of the world, women are told they are oppressed or indoctrinated for choosing to wear the hijab. It all lies in the lack of choice. Whether a woman wants to remove a headscarf in protest or wear it for religious devotion, her power is the freedom to decide for herself, without social shaming or governmental control.

Plenty of women choose to wear revealing clothes and pose naked in photoshoots, and that too is their right. For many women it is not about male validation but about feeling empowered in their own skin. Confidence takes many forms. Yet the societal contradiction persists: when a woman is sexually assaulted, society asks, “What was she wearing?” as if her clothing, not the perpetrator, is to blame. No one asks to be raped, and rape is not something that is provoked by clothing, it is the result of a rapist's warped and twisted beliefs. All over the world, women are raped in full burkas. Modesty will not grant immunity.

The woman posing in lingerie and the woman covered in a hijab may be acting from the same place, agency, and self-assurance. The real issue doesn’t lie in what women choose to wear or show, but whether they are truly free from fear, coercion, societal expectation, and male approval. Because even when the choice may look like liberation, if it is rooted in the need to be accepted or desired, is it really freedom?

Feminism isn’t one thing: it’s everything and nothing all at once

Aesthetics, religion, and sex cannot define feminism alone. It must be rooted in self-empowerment. The self-empowerment in having no survival threats, no external pressure and no elements of male approval misshaping the lens of self-worth. The uncomfortable and complex truth is that feminism today exists on a spectrum. The only universal standard and consistency should be that a woman is empowered when her decisions are solely her own, not from indoctrination, fear, force, or a need to be seen by men. Until then, whether naked or veiled, on a boardroom panel or in a brothel, we are still navigating cages. Some are just a lot harder to see.