For Sanjana Chowhan, the turning point wasn’t a career move or a big project. It was becoming a mother.
“Overnight, I stopped pretending to care about nonsense and suddenly had zero patience for fluff,” she says with a laugh. “Motherhood strips you down to the essentials priorities get brutally clear, and trust me, it’s liberating.”
But the journey came with its share of judgment. Sanjana admits she has been privileged in many ways socially, financially but even that didn’t protect her from “motherhood tax.”
“It takes a toll on your time, your body, your career. My son is a love child, and when I was pregnant, I was judged, lectured, and harassed. Not going to lie – it broke me, but it also hardened me. I’m a fighter (sometimes too much fight, honestly). But that stubborn streak is what carried me through, and it’s why I’ll never apologise for owning my choices.”
That fire is what keeps her going. At her core, Sanjana is a storyteller. “Watching someone find their authentic voice and own a room is addictive. If I can help unlock that, I’m hooked. The journalist in me still lives for a good story especially the messy, complicated, jargon-heavy ones that need to be untangled for people.”
She isn’t immune to self-doubt, but she’s learned how to walk through it. “I just… do it and then I do it again and again. At this point, I’m not afraid to look stupid, sound stupid, or fall flat. I also make a list of why I’m actually perfect for the thing I’m fearing.”
Looking back, there’s one piece of advice she wishes she’d heard sooner: “You don’t get what you deserve. You get what you negotiate for. And if you don’t ask, the answer is always no.”
When it comes to balance, Sanjana doesn’t sugarcoat it. “There is no balance,” she says. “I cry in the shower, on the way to work: you name it! But I also hit the gym daily, no matter what. Endorphins are my life’s saver. By the time I walk out, my brain is reset and ready to take on the world or at least survive negotiations with my son.”
Being underestimated is something she has gotten used to. “Every single day,” she says. “But I don’t waste energy trying to prove anything. I’d rather just do my thing so well they can’t look away. It helps to have women in your corner too, who believe in you enough to drown out all the other voices.”
She’s also grateful for the failures that cleared her path. “A failed relationship that, in hindsight, would have drowned me turned out to be a blessing. My gut is annoyingly accurate when I’m done, I’m done. Walking away always makes space for something better.”
These days, her definition of success is refreshingly simple: “Slow mornings. Books I can lose myself in. Lots of time with my son, who reminds me daily why it’s worth it. And close friends who live close enough (proximity is underrated.)”
Her advice to young women is honest, practical, and a little cheeky: “Date lots (safely, please). Write everything down—at work, at home. Information is power. Receipts are better. Have a hobby that is just a hobby, not a side hustle. Read voraciously. Manage your finances well. And yes, listen to your mom—she’s been right about way more than you’ll admit. Oh, and eat breakfast!”
For Sanjana, it all comes down to showing up, again and again, without apology. Her story isn’t about perfection, its about presence, honesty, and the kind of grit that grows when you stop pretending and start living on your own terms.
