Stop Calling Her Strong: Rethinking Empowerment in NGO Storytelling

Why do we (and I include myself here) keep celebrating women for their strength—but why must they be extraordinary just to survive? A personal reflection on the challenges of the “empowered woman” narrative.

Image description: A graphic with three feminine silhouettes in orange and pink and social media icons on either side. Created in Canva by Christine

Orginally published on LinkedIn on 21 March 2025.

A few years ago, I might have written this article differently. I have spent much of my career in communications for NGOs, crafting stories about “empowered” women who overcome obstacles, break barriers, and defy the odds. I’ve written about, filmed and photographed strong female leaders, resilient girls, and inspiring mothers—narratives that are engaging, compelling, and, importantly, effective for donor engagement.

But recently, I’ve found myself fatigued by these stories, especially following International Women's Day. Not because I don’t believe in the strength of women, but because I believe we have to question why women must be exceptional just to be acknowledged, just to survive, just to access rights that should be fundamental.

The “Strong Woman” Trope

In development and NGO communications, resilience is often romanticised. Women can be seen framed as heroes, their struggles reduced to digestible soundbites of determination and perseverance. These stories are meant to inspire—but, in my opinion, they also shift responsibility onto women themselves rather than interrogating why systemic barriers exist in the first place.

We see this in fundraising campaigns, where a girl walking miles to school is celebrated for her ambition, rather than questioning why access to education is so out of reach. A woman lifting herself out of poverty through a microfinance loan is hailed as an entrepreneur, rather than addressing why economic insecurity is feminised to begin with. Empowerment is seen as something that must be framed through individual success rather than collective justice. 

You Shouldn’t Have to Be Extraordinary to Deserve Justice

I believe the fatigue I feel isn’t just personal—it’s systemic. The stories we tell in this sector don’t just reflect reality; they shape it. When we constantly centre exceptional women, we imply that justice must be earned through struggle rather than something all women should have access to without having to perform strength or sacrifice.

This is a pattern we see beyond NGO storytelling. In films, books, and media, justice is rarely granted to women without a fight. This week, I watched Toxic Town, a recent TV series based on the Corby toxic waste scandal, which I feel exemplifies my point. The show’s lead female character is strong, determined, and relentless in her fight for accountability. It’s an incredible story—but it begs the question why must justice be the reward for perseverance rather than a right?

The Role of Funding Pressures

I wonder if this problem will become even more urgent as NGOs currently face severe funding cuts. Will the pressure to secure donor support mean that organisations are more likely to lean into emotive, familiar, and successful narratives—and the “strong woman” trope is one of the most effective? 

But there’s another factor at play here, too: digital engagement.

Through my studies in Cyberpsychology, I’ve become increasingly aware of how much digital storytelling is shaped by online behaviour and platform algorithms. Stories of overcoming adversity perform well because they trigger strong emotions—inspiration, hope, even guilt—which in turn fuels clicks, shares, and engagement. In a funding landscape where visibility can mean survival, I understand why NGOs naturally lean into the narratives that generate the most traction.

• Funders want impact stories, and stories of individual transformation are easier to communicate than slow, systemic change.

• Donors connect with personal narratives, making the empowered woman a more fundable image than policy reform or collective action.

• Success sells, and even well-intentioned organisations risk simplifying complex realities into stories that are palatable and inspiring rather than radical and uncomfortable.

But this comes at a cost. When we frame change as an individual triumph, we risk erasing the structural barriers that remain.

Challenging the Narrative

A few years ago, I wrote a PhD proposal titled Framing Gender Equality: What Counts in Empowerment? In it, I questioned whether development targets and NGO communications truly capture lived realities—or whether they simplify them into success stories that serve stakeholders rather than communities.

I never pursued the PhD because I couldn’t secure funding which was kind of fitting, reflecting what my research was about—what gets valued, what gets funded, and what gets left out.

I argued that feminist methodologies offer us an alternative. Instead of celebrating women for surviving within broken systems, we should be questioning why these systems persist in the first place. Instead of measuring success in statistics and soundbites, we should be amplifying collective action, policy change, and the uncomfortable realities that don’t fit into tidy narratives.

Recently, I've been excited to see feminist initiatives like Nkisu and the Stories of Girls’ Resistance project get this right. Refusing to romanticise resilience, instead portraying struggle as a political act, not an individual burden. Resistance is not always inspirational—it is often exhausting, messy, and unfair.

Where Do We Go from Here?

As communication professionals, we have a responsibility to move beyond these well-worn tropes. This doesn’t mean abandoning storytelling—it means telling better stories.

• Stories that acknowledge power, not just perseverance.

• Stories that centre communities, not just individuals.

• Stories that challenge the conditions that make resilience necessary in the first place.

I'm trying to think more critically about how NGO stories function in a digital world. Are we communicating for engagement, or for impact? Are we, as sector professionals, shaping narratives to fit an algorithm, or to tell the truth? These are the questions I'm asking when I'm consuming and creating online content, and they’re the ones I hope more of us in the sector will ask too.

Women shouldn’t have to be heroes to be heard. Justice shouldn’t be reserved for the strongest. It should be expected, demanded, and, most of all, guaranteed—without exception.