Gauri from Dailekh was only 17 when she got married. At 18, she was holding a newborn in her arms.

When transitions are this abrupt, they often carry burdens we may fail to recognise.

“One day I was a daughter. Next, I was a daughter-in-law, a wife, and a mother. I was responsible for a home I did not grow up in,” Gauri says.

She remembers feeling insignificant in her husband’s house. She was careful with her words, unsure of every step, and afraid of making mistakes in unfamiliar territory, engulfed her in routines she didn’t understand. Her confidence was fragile.

Just two days before the delivery of her child, she was still in the fields, working and carrying heavy weights. 
When she first learned she was pregnant, Gauri was not ready. She was still adjusting to marriage, still trying to understand her own body, still a teenager herself. 

Quietly, she told her husband she did not want to continue the pregnancy. She wanted to wait. She even considered terminating it. But the decision was never treated as hers to make. When the couple raised the idea of delaying childbirth, her in-laws reacted harshly, telling them that if they did not want a child, they could leave the house. 

Faced with the threat of losing shelter and family support, Gauri felt she had no real choice. The pregnancy continued, not because she was prepared, but because her circumstances left her without agency over her own body.
After delivery, her baby developed complications and had to be rushed to the hospital. Overwhelmed and without adequate support from her family members, she carried motherhood alone. 

In the midst of all this, her own health was collapsing quietly.

For nearly two years, she was living with persistent lower abdominal pain. Yet, she had no one to complain to and no time to rest. When she finally visited the local health post, she was told that her body had been pushed beyond its limits. 
Her uterus had prolapsed. 

She was 20 years old. 

This diagnosis was not just medical. It was emotional. She was forced to grow up too fast.

The same year, her husband left for foreign employment, and silence engulfed her. In that silence, a simple question loomed in her mind.

“What about me?”

In all these years, she had been forced to give up her passion, to complete her education, she had held very close to her heart. 
She was told that daughters in law needn’t study and they were fit for taking care of the house. 

These were the days she sought support from her own parents to fund her education. But continuing at school was difficult, especially with a child and the expectations she was forced to fulfil.

Then she and her family joined the family dialogue sessions under the Empowered Women Prosperous Nepal programme, funded by the European Union and jointly implemented by UNFPA, UNICEF, ILO, and UNWOMEN.

At first, Gauri was unsure of what to expect but the sessions spoke about gender equality, child marriage, about shared responsibility inside families. And about women’s rights as justice.

“Something shifted in my heart as if I had been holding my breath for years and didn’t realise it until then.”

For the first time, her experiences had language. Then, change happened inside her own home.

Her in-laws began helping with chores. Meals were prepared together. Decisions were made openly. Her younger sister-in-law's opinions were also valued when she spoke about things that mattered to the family. 

Her younger brother in law also began attending Rupantaran classes. Today, he does his own chores without being asked. He cleans up after himself. He supports his mother and sister in law in the kitchen and around the house. More importantly, he is learning to navigate adolescence with awareness and respect, understanding consent, equality and shared responsibility. 

For Gauri, seeing this shift in him feels just as powerful as the changes in her own life. It signals that the next generation of men in her family may grow up differently.

The house did not transform overnight, but things gradually softened. 

And so did she. 

“If I had known the consequences, I would have chosen differently. This is what I tell everyone around me. Don’t rush to get married, and don’t rush to have children.” 

Today, Gauri is very clear in her ambitions. She wants to study, earn enough so that the burden is not entirely on her husband to support the family, and he can return to be together with her. She wants to be a role model for every girl who may think their life is already decided.
She also questions the silent rules inside homes. 

“Why should the daughter-in-law carry the burden of the house? Care work is not destined because of one’s gender but it is a responsibility which belongs to each family member.”

In Dailekh, Gauri is no longer the hesitant young bride who lowered her voice and accepted her fate.

She speaks openly. She advocates for delaying marriage until one is ready. She talks about planning pregnancies and protecting women’s health. She tells families that supporting girls is not rebellion but it is an investment. 

Despite everything she went through, she is reclaiming her voice and her choice. And in doing so, she is empowering women for a prosperous Nepal.