Thursday, 21 May 2026

Women- Money- Why don't we match?

green plant in clear glass vase

Even though I secretly judge people who don’t respond to messages, I equally cringe at the LinkedIn messages I often get. Most of them are from social media managers trying to convince me that I’ll grow wings — maybe even a horn — and become the most unique unicorn therapist in existence once I start using their services.

Naturally, when I got a message from Jasmine on LinkedIn, I opened it with my usual reluctance, completely unaware of the impact this one message would have on me.

On the mother’s day Sunday, Jasmine, the Founder of Famigos, a financial planning firm, was organising a talk for women about personal finances and investment. She wanted me to talk about the psychology behind women’s reluctance to make financial decisions.

Having worked with hundreds of women in my therapeutic practice, I already understood most of the emotional barriers that held us back from taking monetary decisions. I had seen the hesitation, borrowed confidence and self-doubt first hand. What I had really not done yet, was put these observation in a larger framework- to understand the structure, and research behind them.

Preparing for my part of the presentation became an eye-opener, not just professionally, but personally as well. Reading through the research highlighted the evolutionary and cultural reasons why so many of us women have such a complicated relationship with money. We inherit stories about money before we earn it. We absorb beliefs about security, risk, competence, and worth, looking at our mothers. And slowly finance becomes someone else’s department, someone more competent, and qualified.. men.

At the beginning of the morning surrounded by women ranging between mid 20s to mid 50s, I couldn’t predict the transformation, revelations and the shift I would have in my own perception.

There I was- as a Psychologist- speaking about low financial confidence and greater risk aversion, while the audience was filled with women across different stages of life. Some had already bought their first homes. Some had built businesses. Others admitted they had absolutely no idea where to begin.

It was a perfect mix of everything I feel as a female myself. Each participant reflected my personal anxieties and confusion when it came to the big bad world of numbers.

A world so alien and overwhelming, that if I had a man explaining finance with 200% confidence and 4% empathy, I would have mentally exited the conversation in the first five minutes.

I thanked my stars that Jasmine was a woman.

Subconsciously I knew that she would related to my anxieties, maybe even have her own. And that made the experiences all the more relatable.

Through our conversations, I had realised that at a deeper level, our value systems matched. Of course, we both want to make money. And refreshingly, neither of us seemed ashamed about it.

Money is important, naturally. But beneath that we spoke to something deeper-bigger and equally important to both of us.

Yes, we were building businesses, but the bigger goal was women’s empowerment. To help women feel less intimidated, less dependent, less excluded from spaces they had long been made to feel weren’t theirs.

I realised, that was probably what made me say yes in the first place.

This clear value.

The answer to a question I ask myself everyday- what more can I do for this cause I so deeply feel about.

In an age of social media where ‘women supporting women’ is a big hashtag, here was Jasmine, truly putting things into action.

The fact that her presentation wasn’t boring really helped the cause.

That afternoon I left my own presentation more empowered, aware, and with the clarity of my own intent as well.

I also learned something else:

Not all LinkedIn messages should be ignored 😉😉.

Confessions of a therapist..

green fern plant inside clear glass vase

This week at work,

I was the first audience to a father’s eulogy,

And witness to the woman with a blue eye — the one that never got an apology.

I experienced the fear for a two-year-old of a mother fighting a custody battle,

And gathered myself together as an eighteen-year-old started to tattle.

I felt the judging eyes of those who commented on a woman’s weight,

And went through the physical agony of a man whom sleep almost always evades.

I sat with a mother mourning her old self,

And listened to another who, amidst the crowd, couldn’t find his own self.

“Why do you do it?” I am often asked.

“Does it not break your heart?”

“I wouldn’t be able to do it,” soon follows —

All the pain, tears, and empty hollows.

I nod, don’t say much, and move on,

As I sense the anxiety creeping within the veins of a girl long gone.

I try to cradle a motherless daughter and hold an aimless son,

And understand the shattered dreams of someone who once believed to be “the one.”

I discuss navigating family politics and the geopolitical situation in the world.

I savour the sweet love story unfolding as their hearts both twirled.

I navigate a woman’s emotions, not knowing what meaning her life holds,

And every single day, I thank my stars manyfold.

“How do you cope?” they say.

“Aren’t you personally affected?”

“Where do you draw that boundary where each emotion is reflected?”

Everyone cracks the same joke: “Are you analysing me right now?”

I don’t have all the answers, but I listen anyhow.

I do it for the mother, and the son in all of us.

I do it for myself, like it was ever thus.

I do it because I have witnessed a thousand times and more,

People finding pieces of themselves, deep within their core.

It is beautiful to witness so much courage in a single day.

Cause listening has more value than anything I can ever say.

-Mallika Bhatia

Wednesday, 11 March 2026

Between two turquoise chairs- countless stories

Each sentence is a hint to the role I play between these chairs. It may be easier to guess if you know me- but maybe not.

Mine is cushioned, comfy, and turquoise. Sitting in it almost feels like entering a mother‘s womb- safe enough to help you reveal what’s usually hidden.

I’m usually not sitting in it.

I am in the opposite one. This one is also turquoise, but a different kind. It has wooden handles, is smaller and somehow keeps me at the edge. Even in its comfort, it seems designed to keep me alert and in tune with what people in the womb chair reveal.

Sometimes I wonder if we chose the two different ones, with their specific characteristics, to play their separate roles in our lives. All I know is that it was their souls that called to our deepest selves. And so we ordered them and waited for weeks to receive them into our space.

It would be another few years before they finally started fulfilling their purpose in our lives.

The chairs almost seem like characters in the stories of the people who reveal themselves while sitting on them.

Some stories involve partners who are loved but don’t love back. Some are about little children who live within us. The ones that crave love, attention and approval, even at the ripe age of 58.

Some involve office bosses and it turns out that in most cases, the bosses are playing with the little children we just spoke about. In my mind, I often call them chairs of courage, because the vulnerability and courage they help people reveal are unmatched. The power to let someone speak about their deepest secrets, darkest moments and sometimes the toughest insecurities- is magical.

I wish I alone possessed that power. But, alas, it isn’t so.

I often sit in my turquoise chair with wooden handles and look expectantly at the people in the womb chair. Some people begin like waterfalls, and soon their narration turns into a gushing-flowing-river. While a few others begin with doubt. ‘Where do I start?’, may be the statement their chair has heard the most.

I know it is my cue to step into the role that the chair with wooden handles has allotted me. I give them a direction-a little probe, sometimes- a small question. I know that is all that’s needed because by the time people decide to work with me, they are full to the brim.

I have been on the other side, on the other chair as well. I know what it feels like at the beginning, and I know the relief that comes at the end, sometimes after several weeks, but relief for sure.

Oh, and I completely forgot to introduce another main character in the story: the famous slanted chair. This one truly creates magic. Time travel, forgotten memories, dreams, and warm hugs are its speciality.

People get to this one only after sitting in the womb chair for a few hours. But sitting in it often shrinks their time spent with me.

I have personally witnessed magic on it.

The chair that I don’t have is the one that is hardest to describe. I know its characters though- it teaches people patience. It sometimes offers them solace while they wait for their time on either the womb chair or the magic-maker.

And when the room falls quiet again, the chairs return to stillness. As if they know another story would reveal itself soon enough…..

If you have your guesses ready, then share them in the comments. I am waiting..