Two days ago, Friday, December 16th, marked one year since my hooding ceremony for “Dr. Elsa.”
I think that moment is what made it feel official. The Hooding. It was a moment I had dreamed about for a long time. Beyond the years of the doctoral program. I called it my “PhD Wedding.”
I attended my School graduation in the Spring of this year.
It is a moment I want to remember in the most positive and beautiful light. But it is difficult. At the moment, it is difficult.
I felt a strong inertia against my writing this particular post all week, and I know why, but I had written it anyway. Initially as a social media post that evening, for the one year mark, and one that perhaps deserved a spot on the “Chronicles of a Warrior Queen.” I hope you can understand my need to write this, my dear reader, if you are here. And I appreciate your time in reading. My thoughts and feelings on this remain incomplete but I know when I write, there is an incredible and necessary release.
I did want to commemorate this day in some way, because it was a surreal moment for me last year. But I sense that the same inertia I have felt in writing this post, I felt it for that “commemoration’ as well…
I did however run a “victory lap”, similar to the morning of my hooding last year. I always believed in celebrating milestones and achievements for oneself, and I would always go for a run… I did not have anything big to celebrate, I did not get to many things I wanted to complete by this particular one-year mark.
Throughout this entire week it was cold and gloomy. It was cold but warm enough for a jog. On this day last year it was warmer… it was difficult for me to give my Salaam to the mornings then. It is easier now. I guess I can consider that a positive accomplishment and change forward this year. The sun came out on Friday. I just needed to be out there. Running. I listened to those songs of victory: http://www.warrioretkqueen.com/songs-of-victory/.
The songs brought back a pinch of pain, but also the zeal and determination I once had, and still have suppressed within me now. There was a time I couldn’t listen to those songs earlier in the year. I guess this is probably another sign for me that yes I am moving forward but aiista, slow indeed. I have not been able to work out and run much not because I don’t have the time, because time is permissive right now, but because there are so many things I wanted to complete by this date, before this one year mark from my Hooding, and I did not accomplish it. It’s all “pending.” It’s coming together, but nothing finished.
I am reminded that I didn’t actually “finish” my dissertation and submit it in the perfect condition that I wanted to, but it was done. No product or painting, or piece of writing or art is ever really finished is it?
“A painting is never finished – it simply stops in interesting places.” – Paul Gardner
I tried on the regalia again this weekend. I looked at it. I own my regalia. I bought it from one of my first paychecks on my first job this year (It was a massive risky expense but I just had to), and for my School graduation which took place in May. I had to rent the other one for my Hooding ceremony last year. It is a bit long and I may at some point need to get it tailored properly. I laid it on my bed and laid with it. And laid with my hard-cover ProQuest copy of my dissertation, staring at the wall covered with whiteboard paper with the title of my future book based on my dissertation, along with the research question, some diagrams, quotes and pictures of the networks of programs I created. Something I put up earlier this year to inspire me to “keep going.”…
For more than a decade or so, I went to bed telling myself that I was going to be a doctor, a PhD Scholar. And I woke up in the morning telling myself I was going to be a doctor, a PhD Scholar. And when I became one, I was not one, and on top of that, I could no longer say that I was going to become a doctor.
I hope there is someone out there who can read between the lines and understand the above paragraph.
When I finished my Masters, there were Professors who told me that I was not capable of a PhD or Academic life. One professor told me that I should work for an NGO. 12-13 years later, 7 months after my PhD defense, I landed a position at an NGO, a really prominent and great one, the first offer to me, so I took it. I was thinking this year, did those 10 years in my doctorate actually happen if this is where I am today? Maybe I am not seen as who I am, a PhD Scholar at the moment, but it does not change the fact that I did get that PhD and am published in peer-reviewed journals and am perfectly 100% capable of continuing an “Academic life.”
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While I am with gratitude, for the moment I had this day, I did not take in the moment at that time the way that I aspired to. In Urdu, there is a joke that PhD stands for “Phira Hua Damac,” which means a mind that is all over the place. LOL. I guess I didn’t have the mental space for taking in the moment, which was one reason why I wanted to document it so much. I was in so much pain, dealing with multiple traumas, and that same pain that is so hard to describe and understand sometimes, comes back to me from time to time, and at this moment too… But would I ever really have that mental space with a Phira Hua Damac at my level?
That doesn’t change the fact that people didn’t show up for me, and still haven’t. I shared this moment on social media because I wanted to be able to take it in for me and yes, I wanted to share it with the world. I felt at times that my big family moment, that everyone else had for their big life moments, was skipped over and didn’t count and that is what I have to live with going forward. The one thing that happened for me. As I noted earlier, I called this day my “PhD Wedding.” I wanted it to matter just as much as our weddings matter, especially in our culture.
For many big moments, so many gathered for other members of my family. They had parties with more than three people at least, some big ones. They gave speeches. People gave speeches for them. Why did I not deserve that for my moment? I don’t have to explain that it manifests a bigger issue, with respect to women. I attended so many big moments of others, honored them, shared and created albums for them and finally after watching people graduate, have babies, get married, my one moment came and it was brushed off as nothing significant.
Was it not a big deal because I already celebrated myself on social media? Because I wrote and shared so much of the little moments I had coming up to it and afterward and made them bigger myself because I felt maybe, just maybe I deserved a celebration for fighting for my life and education?
I met family recently who couldn’t even say the words “congrats” to my face. It was as if my moment never happened. This is what I deserved. I had struggle after struggle after struggle in my life and I fought through so many different challenges for this degree, I show all the receipts, and I am still fighting, and it just does not matter. On top of this, I am not Dr. Elsa.
It did not matter because it is Elsa, and Elsa does not matter.
And because it was clear that I did not matter, I got that in my head that I could not and should and do not deserve a larger gathering with my community, with my big huge family, with my colleagues and peers, with camels and with elephants, and gadha garris and gorras, because people who I thought cared about me, made me believe I didn’t deserve it.
Because I am mentally ill? Because I am a woman? Because I am an unmarried woman? Because I did not land an Academic position (yet)? Because I have a personality disorder? Because I am Elsa? Because I was and am not Dr. Elsa? Because I am a Fraud or an Imposter? Because I am public about my suicidality? Because I have followed an unconventional path as a woman within my culture?
Why am I always using the hashtag “Cure Stigma” in my social media posts?
This entire year, I felt so hurt. I let others’ negative feelings of jealousy, buree nazar, and resentment, and hate on me, overpower me and rob me from my moment. I did this to me. That’s what you may say when you read this filtered version and not understand that this is just one part of the larger issue. This will always hurt me so much.
I recall seeing an Instagram Reel where a woman said these words that really spoke to me regarding how I have felt all year: “Be careful of those who grow silent during your season of celebration…”
I was happy at that moment to have found these words that offer some clarity and explanation of what has been hurting me the past year. This was a very painful difficult lesson learned for me, since I completed my PhD last year. I am slowly moving from denial to acceptance on this, still gradually, but I wish I was given this warning before I got my doctorate, before the one and only big thing that happened for me in my life. The transition had been even harder because of this. I am not sure if it would have been less painful with a warning. Maybe I was warned but I didn’t believe it.
Sometimes you have to experience these things and learn this the hard way, on the reality of human relations, in order to not let it hurt you or not be in denial that people could be this way, or be defiant of it because it is really the wrong way to be towards friends or family who accomplish big achievement, especially for people who work so hard and overcome so much, against all odds and with serious challenges and obstacles.
I’m still learning this, but that’s okay. It is okay that I felt this pain and may Allah help me build the character and humility and make me a better human being, to be better for others. As long as I don’t let it paralyze me like I somewhat did this past year, and just work through it. As long as I know that my emotions around this was valid, that’s okay. We cannot control the actions, inactions, silence, behaviors and insecurities of others. We must brush it off and keep climbing more mountains… keep doing amazing things… even if less people than you thought are behind you…even if you are walking alone.
There will be a time when it will stop hurting, even when I have received no apology. But it will scar and that scar represents a very painful moment in my history that should have been a joyous moment for me and my family. I don’t want it, I dont want pity. This is not the purpose of why I write this. Even “Justice” is not the purpose.
I yearn for the freedom of expression of our authentic truths and realities and pain and suffering. For the validity of such pain. One may feel free to shame me for “being ungrateful.” To me this is not about gratitude. I have always and already expressed so much gratitude as I always do, for those who did show up. And I cannot care how you interpret this.
After graduation, I struggled with so many mixed emotions, some of which I had hoped to fix by now … but I don’t think it will.. it hasn’t been processed, and it hasn’t been fixed, partly because it seems that no one understands or wishes to listen, and I am burden or a shame if I ever bring it up. It is clear there is something deeper in the woods and I will have to work on this for a long time.
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I have kept this bouquet shown below that my parents gave me at my graduation hooding ceremony. It sits exactly in the same place that it has been sitting since last year. Early this year, I made a self-deprecating joke about this: that this bouquet is perhaps a simple manifestation of my shriveled up Academic dreams. Ouch. It was just a joke, but sometimes it feels real.
I would wake up and see this bouquet every day the past year. Sometimes I would laugh thinking of that joke. And then there were moments I would cry.
It is like the glass half full or empty in a way,… no?
This dried-up bouquet could signify the end of my academic career, it could mean that pain I reference earlier, or my failure in making a point with my “PhD wedding” in that a woman’s education celebration should matter at the same level as her wedding celebration, or it could mean the beautiful memories I had with my parents, who made such a grand effort to show up for me last year, from so far away, while others did not when they were closer. It could mean this last point,.. it could mean the fight out of my poverty…a reminder that I couldn’t embrace that moment because I was still fighting for my career and livelihood in a capitalist world. I was in no position mentally, emotionally, physically, and still barely am to truly “take in that moment,” whatever that entailed. But like I said, would I ever really be at any point, given my realities? I just know it would have been easier without certain unnecessary added stresses and dramas in my life that others had caused, and at such a beautiful pivotal moment of my life.
Sometimes I felt it might be best to throw these away, and let it all go. But I keep my special flowers because of the beautiful sentiment behind them. It’s there. That sentiment. I will remember that precious joyous heartwarming sentiment. It hurts me most that I look at this moment a year ago, with so much pain, and not joy. A moment that I shared with the two most important people in my life.
One day I will be able to rewrite and rewire that moment in my mind. I hope that what I remember is the joy of who was there, and not the pain of who did not “show up” and still has not “shown up.”
But I will not feel ashamed of the truth that I am hurt. And I will not let the pain of those who cannot understand how this would hurt me, for the one big moment I had in my life, overtake me, and I will not allow this pain to paralyze me any more than it already has…
Because the dreams are not over yet. I will never stop fighting. I am not someone who ever quits. I have shown the receipts that I am not a quitter. I am a fighter. So many people have long hiatus’ in their careers or have to make zigs or zag here and there. And many come back if it is in their calling. There is no shame in this. And I will not allow external negative vibes and forces of any kind make me feel ashamed. I will not remain hostage to the past traumas forever.
As I have said many times before, we all deserve time to heal and recover, even if the surrounding world isn’t so merciful. I may have fallen in the pit, but I will rise and fall again and again.
One day I hope I’ll only remember how my parents spent thousands of dollars to come from Pakistan and see me on my graduation, risking their health during a Pandemic (which my University or School Administration did not even give a shit about it)… and how Miss America made the effort last minute to come, and how my Professor was there to perform the hooding.
One day I will be able to use that joy with them to consol the pain. One day, I will forget about the heartless egos that did not have the character to even say one word to someone they know had gone through such massive tribulations and traumas and still got their PhD regardless. I am not sure if I couldn’t take in the moment, in the actual moment when it occurred, if I would be able to rewrite it, rewire it in my brain going forward…if I am able to let it go. I will. I will let it go.
But right now, it is okay for me to be hurt. My hurt mattered, and my hurt matters now too. It goes so deep. I do want to let go of this hurt. I want to release it. I want to be free of the “mental chains” tying me down. Which is why I write this. For the catharsis that I have needed. I want to let all of this go.
I want to move forward and keep achieving…living that “academic life” that most people don’t think I can live, don’t want me to live, no matter how many receipts I show. I want to end this year strong and start the new year on a good footing. Something I could not do this year… I want to let it go, Because it paralyzed me this entire past year. Prevented me from meeting the many goals I had wanted to meet by this day…
No one grants you an award or degree or celebration for your resilience. It is a badge of honor you must provide for yourself.

It is why I made that chart mapping my 10 year PhD journey, the rollercoaster ride. http://www.warrioretkqueen.com/the-victory-lap/
Imagine. Just imagine, going through three decades of education, an entire decade of a doctoral program, achieving the degree, and being in a state of mind, influenced by internal and external forces, like it all never happened? I hate that this is how I feel right now. All that effort. All that hard word. The PhD was and is my soul, my identity, I am a Scholar and it feels like it has been erased.
It will change, this feeling. I will overcome this. I will rise. I will rewrite the story… and “change my stars” and transform it from a Trauma to a beautiful moment in my history. And rise Above the buree nazar. And I will learn and grow as a “student for life”, and I will continue to celebrate others in their big moments. I know I will feel it one day. I need to remain patient and trust in God.
Please remember, and I make this as a reminder for myself as well, that you do not have to make yourself smaller than who you really are, for all you have to contribute with your talents, because people feel insecure, jealous, and envious, rather than happy for another’s achievement or success.
I dreamed of becoming Dr. Elsa. And I am Dr. Elsa Talat Khwaja, PhD.
No one can take this away from me. If this gives anybody in my life, any ill feelings towards me than I really cannot have you in my life or any space I occupy online or offline. It is shameful.
Thank you so much for those who stayed with me on my journey online and who are still with me.
People told me that I inspired people, young women and little girls in particular…. which was my hope… that it was my resilience and my fight for education, my persistence and my determination. But I don’t think I was visible to them. I don’t see that in the Gen Z or others within my networks… Maybe Generation Alpha... there could be a message I have that could reach to them. I fear that most people choose not be inspired by women who fight through barriers and boundaries because of all encompassed within “the evil eyes,” and instead for me, chose to misinterpret my empowerment and the celebrations that I needed to do for myself, and all of what I shared of this incredible moment of my life as a lack of humility. That is a very grand injustice to me and the sincerity behind my fight, my goals, and my ambitions. But this too often happens to women and women of color. Our motivations are completely misconstrued, and we are not recognized or acknowledged or appreciated for our achievements and service and contributions to the world.
I will not allow this to deter me. I am not done yet.
Maybe I will lose you, my dear reader, after sharing this, and maybe I will gain more buree nazar (evil eyes) perhaps, but cannot care anymore. I must live authentically and speak my truth, with honesty, sincerity, and boldness.
And while I roll down the mountains and fall down pits, I always seem to climb back up and will keep doing so. I will not hide my struggle no matter how much society shames it.
In a way, I have been hiding, and it is time I start to emerge. It’s time.
I uploaded a YouTube short of my hooding here: https://www.youtube.com/shorts/xFxSwySmaaw …
And the speech I gave with my parents & Miss America here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sZ-Fa-Rkto8&t=5s
Pleae feel feel to read the description there as well. I translated some of the thoughts I wrote when I first shared that speech last year to the youtube video description.
I hope to post all my videos from my graduation events and share some thoughts about them on a separate video. I hope to add more photos to my album on Facebook which I created a few months ago here, which is available for the public view: https://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.10158499388366572&type=3
I appreciate you for reaching the end of this post. Thank you for reading, and I am sorry if it could not be a pleasant read. But it was still from my heart, and there was no malice intended.
And I hope in any case, that you can find some sincerity, and that there is some value with what I share in this part of my story. And as the journey and story continues… Thank you once again to those who understand my need to write this.
“All your scholarship would be in vain if at the same time you do not build your character and attain mastery over your thoughts and your actions.” – Mahatma Gandhi
Peace, warmth, and blessings,
Your sister, Dr. Elsa T. Khwaja, PhD
Warrior KQueen
“She wasn’t looking for a Knight, She was looking for a Sword.” – Atticus