Women’s Mobility Is Not a Celebration 

I was raised without being told “you can’t.” Yes, I was one of the lucky ones.  

I was born to parents who would probably never describe themselves as progressive. Yet they were, quietly, structurally progressive. They had a daughter later in life. They did not create dream gaps. They did not filter ambition through gender. I was never told certain careers were inappropriate because of my gender, certain risks unladylike, certain freedoms conditional. 

My first experience of social mobility was not economic. It was mental. 

I grew up dreaming of being leader, being a CFO/CEO because that was my environment. I grew up allow to speak and say my thoughts, which comes with other lessons. I grew up assuming I could vote, study, travel, earn, decide.  

I assumed independence was normal. I assumed autonomy was a given. Only later did I understand that this assumption was, in fact, a privilege. 

Because in Peru – and other places- mobility for women is not evenly distributed. In many cases, it is not even available. 

Social Mobility Beyond Income 

When we speak about social mobility, we often reduce it to income brackets or educational attainment. But for women, mobility is multidimensional. 

It means: 

• Economic independence 

• Physical safety 

• Reproductive autonomy 

• Freedom from coercion 

• The ability to leave 

Without these, upward mobility is theoretical. 

In Peru, nearly 28.6% of women over 18 depend economically on their partner or former partner to cover basic needs (INEI, 2025). Economic dependency is not a marginal issue; it affects almost one in three adult women. 

Dependency alters decision-making. It delays exits from violent relationships. It reshapes what “choice” means. 

When leaving is financially impossible, autonomy becomes symbolic. 

Violence as a Structural Constraint 

Peru continues to register over 130 feminicides annually, with hundreds of attempted cases each year (INEI, 2025). The majority are committed by intimate partners or former partners. 

This is not random violence. It is domestic, repetitive, and predictable. 

National surveys consistently show that around 6 in 10 women in Peru have experienced some form of intimate partner violence during their lifetime (ENDES,2020).  

In this context, social mobility cannot be separated from safety. For many women, the greatest threat is not public space. It is private space. 

The ability to earn one’s own income is not merely about career growth; it is about survival. 

When “Opportunity” Is a Trap: Human Trafficking 

In 2024, Peru recorded over 1,100 identified victims of human trafficking. Approximately 84% were women, and a significant proportion were adolescents between 13 and 17 years old (Pizarro, 2025). Most were recruited through false job offers. The language of opportunity: work, income, advancement; becomes a mechanism of exploitation. 

For young women in regions marked by poverty and limited formal employment, the promise of economic mobility is weaponized. What appears to be an escape becomes captivity. 

In parallel, Peru remains deeply affected by illegal economies linked to drug trafficking. While data often focuses on production and seizures, qualitative studies show that many women become involved in drug-related activities due to economic precarity, relational pressures, or lack of alternatives. 

When legitimate paths are blocked, illegal ones become visible. Not desirable, but visible. 

Reproductive Autonomy and Institutional Failure 

Peru criminalizes abortion except in limited therapeutic cases. Yet estimates indicate that more than 370,000 abortions occur annually, the vast majority in clandestine conditions. Prohibition has not eliminated abortion (Torres 2022). It has stratified it. Women with resources access safer private procedures. Women without resources risk unsafe conditions, legal consequences, or medical neglect. 

Even therapeutic abortion, legal under specific circumstances, has been inconsistently applied in practice. Periodontic journals and international human rights bodies have documented cases in which girls and women were denied access to legal procedures, despite clear medical or legal grounds. Reproductive autonomy is not abstract. It determines educational continuity, economic participation, and long-term mobility. 

A woman who cannot decide over her own body does not fully control her social trajectory. 

The Illusion of Celebration 

On paper, Peru guarantees equality. 

Women can vote. Women can study. Women can run businesses. Women can travel. 

But formal rights do not erase structural constraints. 

When: 

• nearly one-third of adult women depend economically on a partner, 

• more than half experience intimate partner violence, 

• over a thousand women and girls are identified as trafficking victims annually, 

• hundreds of thousands resort to clandestine abortions, 

• and more than a hundred women are killed each year for being women, 

Mmobility is conditional. 

My life was shaped by the absence of imposed limits. But many girls grow up negotiating theirs daily. 

This Is Not a Day of Celebration 

International Women’s Day is often framed as empowerment: flowers, panels, leadership statistics, corporate campaigns. But in spaces (countries) where being female still correlates with higher exposure to violence, economic dependency, and institutional neglect, celebration feels premature. 

The issue is not whether individual women can succeed. Many do. 

The issue is whether success depends on exceptional circumstances, progressive parents, economic stability, geographic luck, rather than structural guarantees. 

As long as a woman’s safety depends on her partner’s temperament, as long as economic independence remains uneven, as long as illegal economies recruit girls with promises of opportunity, as long as reproductive autonomy is contested and denied, as long as women continue to die at the hands of men who claim to love them, Women’s Day is not a celebration. 

It is a reminder.