When my daughter Afrin and I decided to build something together, I asked her what topic she most wanted to explore. I was ready for almost any answer. Business strategy. Financial independence. How to build an audience online. She is 21, sharp, and has grown up watching me navigate the professional world. Any of those answers would have made sense.
She said: Divine Feminine.
I was perplexed!
Here was this young woman — someone who had watched me go from homemaker to businesswoman, from zero to building something real, from having nothing to my name professionally to running a business, travelling, owning assets, supporting a family — and what she was asking for had nothing to do with tactics. She was asking to understand herself. The deeper forces shaping how she moved through the world.
That stopped me. Because it was the question I had never thought to ask when I was her age. And because I knew, from experience, what it costs a woman not to ask it.
My own story with these energies was not a straight line. I have always been deeply feminine — intuitive, relational, and connected to the life I created at home. I loved that role. When circumstances changed, I found myself taking on new responsibilities, including becoming the primary earner. I had to make decisions I had always deferred. I had to build structure, clarity and confidence in areas where I had none.
So I did. And I will not pretend it was graceful. I became someone who could handle things. I built a business, had clients, had a team, travelled to countries I had never imagined visiting, owned assets my family had never owned. I was proud of that woman. She showed up.
My health started sending signals. Relationships started fraying at the edges. I was building on the outside and depleting on the inside. Eventually I had to make choices — fewer clients, slower pace, more alignment. That was its own kind of challenge. Suddenly I was learning a different lesson: that stepping back is not the same as giving up, and that sustainability requires the feminine qualities I had packed away in the process of becoming capable.
I am still learning that. Some weeks more elegantly than others.
When Afrin said Divine Feminine, I heard something underneath it. She was watching the women around her — girls her age, women in their thirties and forties, women at every stage — and she was seeing the same tension I had lived. The pressure to prove yourself, to perform strength, to be independent and driven and unshakeable. And she was asking: is there another way?
There is. That is what HerAwaken is.
Afrin brings something to this that I cannot. She is young, she is fearless in conversation, she challenges assumptions that I sometimes still hold without realising it. She asks the uncomfortable question in the middle of a discussion and somehow makes it feel like an invitation rather than an attack. She brings humour into serious things. She keeps me honest.
Where she is immediate, I am steady. Where she questions, I contextualise. Where she pushes, I hold. Most of the time, we laugh somewhere in the middle of it all. That dynamic — two generations, two energies, one shared mission — is the heartbeat of HerAwaken.
We built this because we needed it. And because we know we are not the only ones who do.
Nylah Razvi
Founder HerAwaken
