International Women’s Day: Well-known Aussies write letters to their loved ones
On International Women’s Day, prominent Australians share moving and insightful letters voicing what it really means to be a woman in 2025.
Sydney Weekend
Don't miss out on the headlines from Sydney Weekend. Followed categories will be added to My News.
Sex discrimination. Healthcare discrimination. Racial discrimination. The fight for equality is tougher than it has been, with more at stake.
And while we have a way to go, there’s also a lot to celebrate.
And while we have a way to go, there’s also a lot to celebrate.
Today, on International Women’s Day, these prominent power players share moving and insightful letters to the people they love, the people who made them, shaped them and inspired them voicing what it really means to be a woman in Australia in 2025.
Today, on International Women’s Day, these prominent power players share moving and insightful letters to the people they love, the people who made them, shaped them and inspired them voicing what it really means to be a woman in Australia in 2025.
Edwina Bartholomew
News presenter on Sunrise, Channel 7
Dear Tom,
You have just turned three. You love trucks and Lego and mud. You also love dolls and prams and wearing your sister’s tutus.
You are determined that you are not a “baby” any more but you are yet to really see yourself as a boys’ boy, a lad, a man.
There is not yet an “us” and a “them” when it comes to gender. Only a little brother who adores his big sister. Long may it last.
You don’t know it yet, but having a sister is a superpower, Tommy.
Each time you play with dolls, you’re learning how to care for others.
When you fight with each other, you are not using force but learning how to communicate with your words.
She’s teaching you to be a great dancer and singer too. I’m sure those Taylor Swift lyrics will come in handy one day.
This is not just a hunch; studies have looked at it too.
A sister can help you become a kinder, more giving person, it can teach you conflict-resolution, empathy and how to nurture others.
Apparently, brothers who grew up with sisters are better at communicating with women. Wouldn’t the world be a better place if both sexes could just talk more?
My brother is lucky to have two sisters.
I’m sure we were a pain sometimes as kids, but we are better women for having him as our big brother and he is a better man too.
He is compassionate, empathetic, a brilliant dad, a strong leader, a great listener and gives excellent healing hugs.
He knows what a GHD is without being told and what flowers to send on Valentine’s Day. Simple stuff in the Mars/Venus Guide to Life.
Tommy, learning to understand issues from someone else’s perspective is a powerful thing.
Even though there is no misogyny in our house, you’ll find it out in the world.
I hope you always stand up to it.
I hope you always have your sister’s back. I know she will have yours.
I hope you surround yourself with strong women and, when the time is right, find a partner to love as deeply as we love you.
Your Mum.
Senator Jacinta Nampijinpa Price
Australian politician
As women in 2025 Australia, we have so much to be grateful for. As a free, Western liberal
democracy, this country presents us with abundant opportunity.
The fact is, we enjoy an equality that demands we receive an education; that inspires us to dream far and wide and allows us to decide where our feet will wander – whether we will work, create, be entrepreneurs, raise families, work in government, be athletes or engage in community life, to name only a few possible contributions.
This freedom we have is precious, and it will never do us harm to remember and be grateful for it.
Because despite how normal we may think these things are – they’re not. If we broaden our gaze, we see that this freedom is not a given for many women.
In fact, despite the opportunities Australia presents us, there remain significant barriers to grabbing hold of those opportunities for many in our backyard.
In particular, having recently shared my own journey, I believe we must speak more openly about the way in which domestic violence can destroy those opportunities in one fell swoop.
I know what it is to search for solace and peace from that trauma in destructive things like alcohol and drugs.
I know the tension of those opposing realities – the incredible opportunity as a woman in modern day Australia, yet the trauma of domestic violence that can threaten to rip that opportunity from reach.
We know that unfortunately Indigenous women suffer some of the highest rates of domestic and family violence in this country. That means many Indigenous women face a major barrier to experiencing empowerment and freedom of choice.
The blatant irony is that despite the female empowerment movement which has given Australian women so much opportunity, there remains a defeating silence when it comes to the liberation of Indigenous women.
Too many have bought into the lie that the entirety of Indigenous culture is exempt from condemnation; that lower standards should be applied to Indigenous Australians in the name of culture.
We’re far too quick to pipe down about the cultural acceptance of violence and the appointment of those with domestic violence histories to leadership positions.
Make no mistake, that silence comes at the expense of Indigenous women.
We must be unequivocal and call out the unacceptable nature of violence, even when that may be at odds with culture.
We must support those women in the throes of drug and alcohol dependency because of the abuse they’ve experienced. We must be bolder and stronger in our call for change, because this is a matter of life and death and time is running out.
We are all Australians first and foremost, and it’s not good enough to ignore our own.
I will keep fighting, and this International Women’s Day, I call on every woman who has benefited from the opportunities Australia affords to pay them forward with me.
Let’s be courageous about this, break the silence and take a stand for Indigenous women.
Turia Pitt
Athlete, motivational speaker and author
What does it mean to be a woman today? Well – there’s a bit to it. You need to make sure you’re prioritising your partner, kids and family – oh, and your partner’s family while you’re at it.
You must remember birthdays (only a bad woman would forget birthdays) and remember that the dishwashing guy is coming today, that your boss wants those reports, that your cat needs de-flea-ing, that your child needs their hat for school.
You must always put others first. Duh. Oh, but you also must always make an effort. Have cute matching outfits. Be smiley. No resting bitch face please. But also have good makeup and hair. And by good I mean whatever is the current trend. Obviously. And also, your physique. There’s that homesteader in America who has eight kids and just competed at Mrs America. So, what’s your excuse?
What does it mean to be a woman today? Well – there’s a bit to it. You need to make sure you’re prioritising your partner, kids and family – oh, and your partner’s family while you’re at it.
You must remember birthdays (only a bad woman would forget birthdays) and remember that the dishwashing guy is coming today, that your boss wants those reports, that your cat needs de-flea-ing, that your child needs their hat for school.
You must always put others first. Duh. Oh, but you also must always make an effort. Have cute matching outfits. Be smiley. No resting bitch face please. But also have good makeup and hair. And by good I mean whatever is the current trend. Obviously. And also, your physique. There’s that homesteader in America who has eight kids and just competed at Mrs America. So, what’s your excuse?
I have genuinely tried to do all of that. Smile, be grateful, don’t complain, don’t rock the boat. It ended in me being completely exhausted, stressed and resentful. I have a wonderful life but the pressure to do it all and be it all got to me in the end.
So I tried a different approach. I tried to look after myself first. I started by making time to do the things I enjoyed, like going for a run. I started saying yes to trying new things, like surf skating. I gave myself permission to try new things even if I wasn’t very good at them (um, like surf skating).
When you’re on a plane the flight attendant instructs you to put your own oxygen mask on first. In case of emergency, you make sure you can breathe first – and only then can you help others. Oh I know the oxygen mask is a cliche, but cliches are cliches precisely because they’re so apt.
When I started to look after myself first – when I put my metaphorical oxygen mask on first – I could finally breathe. Breath in, and breath out.
Putting on my oxygen mask improved my emotional, mental and physical wellbeing. It made me feel more whole. It made me feel more like myself. If you can’t give yourself permission to put your own oxygen mask on first (I know how hard it is to undo decades of social conditioning) then tell yourself that it will make you a better parent, partner, friend, boss and colleague. At least, that’s been my experience.
If you want to start making time to do the things that you enjoy, but you’re not exactly sure what it is that you enjoy – can I gently suggest running as a hobby? If it’s not your jam I promise I’m not offended – it’s just that I teach normal everyday women (who are doing the juggling shitshow of work and family) how to run.
It’s very achievable, and it’s a process we undertake together over nine weeks. I’ve seen first-hand how empowering it is to learn a new skill, and how empowering it is to realise that you are capable of doing hard things. If it sounds like something you’d like to try, check it out here: turiapitt.com/run.
Big love, aroha nui, and happy International Women’s Day.
Sharri Markson
Journalist and Sky news host
To my dear great-grandmother Lily,
Although only a few generations separate us, the world you were born into and the one I now inhabit are strikingly different – yet eerily similar in the prejudices that persist.
I almost met you.
In fact, you believed we had met. As you eagerly awaited the birth of your first great-grandchild — me — you slipped into a coma, suffering from cancer.
When you awoke, you were convinced I had been born and crossly demanded my mum bring you her new baby.
Gently, placing your hand on her tummy, she told you: “Granny, the baby hasn’t been born yet.”
But you wouldn’t hear it. You insisted that you had seen me; the baby was a girl with big, beautiful brown eyes.
You passed away on the very day I was meant to be born – a heartbreaking time for the entire family.
Two weeks later I arrived, on what would have been your 60th wedding anniversary: March 8th, 1984. International Women’s Day.
I’ve always been strong, feisty and determined by nature. My husband jokes that my motto is, “Don’t pick your battles — fight them all.”
But now, with anti-Semitism re-emerging with a vengeance, I wonder if strength and resilience are inherited, woven into our DNA, a way to protect our family from ever-present dangers.
Because the same hatred you faced as a young child — the prejudice you escaped — has resurfaced again, in the most unexpected of places: Australia.
You were born in Lithuania, in a tiny shtetl called Krakes, in 1900. The Jewish community numbered just 450, and the wooden houses, where you lived, surrounded a cobbled square.
Wednesday was market day, when farmers from the surrounding areas came to trade. Jews were only allowed to buy produce once the non-Jewish population had finished shopping, by which time the fresh fish and meat were gone.
It’s said that this is why so many Jewish traditional recipes have pickled herring in them.
anti-Semitism and unrest in Krakes was relentless. There were pogroms and the town suffered sudden attacks by the Russian Cossacks, who murdered Jews, raped women, and burned homes.
In 1884, forty Jewish homes in Krakes were burned, leaving families homeless. Only eight remained untouched.
The harassment continued for many years. You told stories of having to hide underneath haystacks to avoid the Russian Cossacks – the soldiers who were torching your shtetl. You told how the fear made you shake.
It was no longer safe. Your father, Yankel, left for South Africa while your mother was still pregnant with you.
He spent 10 years selling ginger beer in the mines before he had saved enough money to bring you, your four siblings and your mother across by ship from Lithuania to South Africa.
And so, you didn’t meet your father until you were 10.
Then, in 1915, long after you had left, the town suffered the Lithuanian expulsion, where Jews were forcibly removed from their homes and sent into exile.
This was the life of your childhood.
Now, I sit with the sound of my own children as they play in a bubble of contentment, and yet there is a heaviness in my heart, an uneasiness about the world around us.
Though we are only in the early months of 2025, it feels as though we have lived years within these fleeting weeks.
Life in Australia carries a fresh anxiety: a preschool firebombed, homes and cars vandalised, a caravan packed with explosives uncovered — two Jewish targets inside.
Death threats. Jewish leaders under siege. The events in Israel weigh heavily on our community here, too.
The heartbreaking plight of the Bibas family, torn from their home and held hostage, has become another painful symbol of our enduring struggle.
Their suffering echoes the injustices our ancestors faced, and it is a reminder that our fight against hatred is far from over.
As a mother and a journalist, I find strength in our shared history to fight for a safer future.
The resilience of your mother to start over and rebuild, to protect her family — that instinct courses through my veins. It is survival. It is defiance. It is who we are.
The women in our family have always been hard workers, resilient, determined and nurturing. While your father saved money to bring you to a new country, your mother ran the general store and embarked on a perilous journey, with children in tow, into an unknown country where she couldn’t speak the language.
You, my great grandmother, were a true pioneer in many ways. You worked when it wasn’t the norm for women to do so, creating a business where you made wedding dresses. You cooked for your family and so many others who didn’t have much.
My grandmother, Shirley, now 91, had a strong work ethic, too, manning the counters in the family store, eventually leaving the country of her birth for Australia. Nurturing, she always thinks of those less fortunate.
My mother, Ro, with her unlimited love for her children and grandchildren, her self-sacrifice and her abundance of time, care and selfless devotion to everyone around her.
This, matched by her perseverance and independence.
Generations of women, shaped by adversity, have left an indelible mark on me.
Now I find myself fighting back against the same hatred you, Lily, once faced – not only to remember but to protect. To safeguard the future, to ensure that our nation remains a safe home for Jewish Australians.
An ancient hatred must not be allowed to take root here. Not in 2025. Not ever.
Love Sharri
Shayna Jack
Olympic swimmer
Dear Mum,
You are my inspiration. You are the embodiment of strength, resilience, and the profound power of motherhood.
As I reflect on the impact you have had on my life, I realise that everything I am today has been shaped by you. Your strength isn’t loud or flashy; it’s a quiet, unyielding force that pushes me to face challenges head-on, to rise above adversity, and to stand unwavering in my beliefs.
You have shown me that true strength isn’t about avoiding hardships; it’s about embracing them, overcoming them, and emerging stronger each time.
Growing up, I witnessed you juggle countless responsibilities with grace, always putting others first, and ensuring our family’s needs were met.
You gave everything you had, often without recognition, showing me what selflessness truly means.
Your sacrifices both seen and unseen are the foundation upon which my life is built. You taught me that motherhood is a superpower: it’s the ability to nurture, to guide, and to love unconditionally, no matter the cost.
Through you, I learned that the power of women lies in their ability to uplift others, to create life, and to leave an indelible mark on the world.
As your daughter, I’ll admit that I haven’t always shown you the appreciation you deserve. It’s easy to take for granted the constant sacrifices you’ve made, the late nights, the endless support, and the quiet strength you provide.
As I’ve grown older, I’ve come to realise just how much you have done, and continue to do, to shape me into who I am.
International Women’s Day serves as a reminder to truly honour you and all the mothers, daughters, sisters, and women who work tirelessly, often without recognition, to create a better world for those around them.
You represent everything I aspire to be: strong, resilient, selfless, and unapologetically powerful.
You have shown me that real strength isn’t about being invincible; it’s about rising every time you fall, about giving everything for the ones you love, and about finding power in vulnerability.
You are the epitome of what it means to be a woman, and your legacy of strength is something I carry with me every day.
On International Women’s Day, I celebrate you, mum, not just as my mother, but as a woman whose enduring strength, love, and sacrifices continue to inspire me.
You have shaped me into who I am, and I will forever honour the incredible power you have passed on to me.
Love Shayna.
Georgina Long
Melanoma Institute of Australia co-director
Dear Mum (Dr Ann Long), Liv, Lucia and Ella,
Together, we are three generations of Australian women.
Three generations of strength, of curiosity, of boldness, and of the unshakeable belief that we can and must make a difference.
Mum, you set the foundation for all of this. And Liv, Lucia and Ella, you are the future. I write this letter to celebrate us – who we are, what we stand for, what we fight for, and what we will never stop striving to change.
Mum, thank you. Thank you for being forward-thinking, for teaching me to think critically, to question, to never blindly accept the world as it is, but to always ask: Could it be better?
You and Dad raised six of us with an open house, an open mind, and the fierce belief that “nothing is too hard”.
You shaped my understanding of how science and public policy can save countless lives, about fighting for the good of others, about the power of small messages that create big change. That lesson stayed with me, shaped me, defined me.
To my daughters, I hope you carry this forward. Keep challenging me. Keep challenging the status quo.
Never stop asking: Does it have to be this way? Seek freedom, seek truth, and – above all – listen to your grandmothers and the wise older women around you.
Your grandmother is a woman who knew how to push boundaries long before the world realised they needed pushing.
She understood that activism can create real change, that speaking up matters, and that protecting what we love – our people, our health, our planet – is worth the fight.
Her deep appreciation for nature and the environment wasn’t just admiration; it was action. She knew that the world we leave behind is shaped by the choices we make today.
Consider your potential. Think big and create meaningful impact. I want a world without melanoma, where sun safety isn’t an afterthought, where health messages are clear, consistent, and powerful enough to save lives.
I want a world where women are recognised for their contributions without having to constantly prove their worth.
A world where our ideas are acknowledged and credited, where expectations are fair, and where talent and effort – regardless of gender – are valued and rewarded equally.
I want you to inherit a world where protecting our planet isn’t a debate but a responsibility we all share.
And yet, despite all this, I stand tall. I am proud to be a woman. Because despite these battles, we persist. We fight. We make change. And we will never stop.
In this world of social media, of misinformation, of untruths spun to manipulate, please – resist influence. Approach information with curiosity and scepticism.
Make up your own mind. Seek evidence, seek truth, and do not let the noise distract you. Your voice matters. Your thoughts matter. Your ideas matter.
This is a world brimming with unprecedented opportunities for women who dare to think big and challenge the status quo.
Have the courage to make mistakes – learn to make good decisions by making bad ones. Wear failures like a badge of honour as you push the boundaries towards reaching goals. Embrace the journey of growth through trial and error. Live well. Love fiercely.
Be bold. Know that your ideas can change the world. Because they can. And they will.
Anja Christoffersen
Disability advocate and social entrepreneur
My hopes for Australia’s healthcare system for the young women of the future.
As the recipient of Women & Leadership Australia’s Qld Award for Excellence in Women’s Leadership this year, I feel incredibly grateful for this acknowledgment for myself and other women leaders making progress in so many great ways.
While a lot is improving, there is one sector that still often falls behind – health.
Through my healthcare and disability advocacy, I have uncovered some hard truths. My focus is to champion our right to safe, high-quality healthcare and create systems for social and economic inclusion for women with disabilities.
Did you know that two in every three women experience discrimination in healthcare?
I’ve experienced it first-hand. I was born with a complex disability and saw a distinct change in how I was treated when I was viewed as a “child” vs. when I became a (young) “woman”. My own knowledge of my body was not trusted. And my safety in my body was not prioritised.
Common attitudes towards women and our bodies threaten not only our livelihood, but our survival.
One of the worst consequences of not believing women is in healthcare. Consider endometriosis for example, it impacts one in seven women but still takes eight years to diagnose.
Consider the foundations our medical system is built upon, years of historical medical research that didn’t include female participants. We are only just finding out that the heart attack symptoms we have been taught to monitor are relevant to men but are different for women. Not believing women causes delays and misdiagnoses.
This changes the trajectory of our lives.
These next experiences may be hard to read and believe. But I assure you, they are true.
Believe me when I tell you, at 15 years old I went to my first gynaecology appointment about severe pelvic pain.
I walked out with a plan to become “sexually functional”, as I wasn’t yet due to reconstructive surgery I had in infancy.
My pain wasn’t addressed. It felt like I was being told that it was more important that my body was safe for others to “use”, than for me to be in.
Believe my two friends who were wheeled into an emergency department with symptoms of a stroke, but care was delayed when they were assumed to be drug users.
Believe my friend who the first, second or even third time she came into emergency with severe abdominal and bowel pain after an IUD insertion.
It shouldn’t have taken until the fourth time for them to find it had torn through both her uterus and bowel.
Believe my friend when she says that her pain is greater than usual post-surgical pain, before being forced into doing a scan of her and finding a four litre internal bleed.
Believe my friend, when she is struggling with a pre-existing heart condition during pregnancy, that her symptoms were not anxiety.
Believe my friends when they are sexually assaulted on a mixed gender ward in hospital.
The lack of belief in moments where we are at our most vulnerable causes us irreversible harm.
The theme of not being believed permeates all different facets and areas of life. We all have an easy role in reversing our unconscious bias to immediately not believe women. Admittedly, at times I do too.
The biggest change I want to see is believing the lived experience of women and supporting their ability to be leaders in the change they wish to experience. It starts with us and leads to a better world for everyone.
Ellie Cole
Paralympic swimmer
Dear Mum,
How do I put into words the weight of the strength that you have had to carry? How do I thank you for that?
When I was two, I was too young to understand how tough the road ahead was going to be.
I can’t imagine the pain you felt when you were told about my cancer. I can’t imagine the pain you felt when you kissed my forehead the night before they took my leg, knowing life would never be the same again.
You were the one absorbing the fear, the what ifs and the pain of watching me fight for my life. And yet, in the middle of all this, you had to be strong. For me and for three other little ones at home. For our family.
And then, my leg was gone. And where there could have been limitations, you gave me something else: belief.
You never let me see a disability as an ending, only as a different way to move forward. You taught me that my body, no matter how it looked, was powerful. That I could still run, swim, be silly and live fully without apology.
You made sure I knew that nothing was beyond my reach, even when the world around me wasn’t built for someone like me.
You carried so much so that I wouldn’t have to. Because of you, I grew up never questioning whether I belonged.
You fought battles I never even saw and made sacrifices I never understood until I was older. I know now that it couldn’t have been easy. But you made it look like it was.
I have spent my whole life walking in the strength you gave me, because you never let me believe I was less.
You never let the world make me smaller. You showed me that being a woman means being unbreakable, even in the face of hardship, even when nothing goes to plan. That strength is in every woman who has ever had to fight to be seen.
But we still have work to do. I want to live in a world where women don’t have to prove their worth.
Where strength isn’t measured by how much pain we can carry but by how freely we can be ourselves and where a woman never has to face barriers in the first place.
You taught me that being a woman means being unstoppable.
I hope that one day, because of women like you, the next generation won’t have to fight so hard to be seen, heard and valued for exactly who they are.
This is my big thanks to you Mum.
Ellie
Emma Watkins
Entertainer
Dear Mum and my sister Hayley,
It’s been many years of driving me to dance classes, watching concerts, taking me to competitions and trying to get my curly hair into a ballet bun. Mum, when you gave Hayley a trophy you bought and engraved yourself that said ‘Best Sister Award’ for having to attend my countless performances – I knew then, that we were a team.
Today, this pact we have continues and Mum, you still find the most colourful cotton to sew a sparkly, felt butterfly onto a hair clip. And I never want this to change.
Being a woman, being a part of our 3-piece Spice Girls band means we are there for each other, we always are, and we want to be.
Never a moment when Mum can’t find an excuse to meet me for a coffee on my way driving past just to wave hello, tell me about the neighbours from 15 years ago and really … just to say she’s proud of me.
What needs to change is our silly schedules that makes us ‘too busy’ to see each other. To see anyone.
But in 2025, women are kicking goals, they are busy, they are creating opportunities, they are looking after their families – and in my case, looking after the pet goats. So, take a moment to cheer for each other, like Mum does every time she meets me with a vegemite croissant, a snap lock bag full of new butterflies and snacks for the dogs.
I’d like to take this moment to celebrate all the little ones in the audiences that come to our shows.
We appreciate your preschooler schedule is busy too – do not stop dancing, singing, signing, munching on crackers and carrots. Know that your Spice Girls are already watching you, supporting you and dedicating their life to you.
Love Emma
Sam Frost
TV personality
There are no words to adequately describe how grateful I am for my beautiful big sister Kristine.
I truly wouldn’t be half the person I am today without her unwavering love, support and guidance.
When I try to think of a word to describe her ‘magical’ is the first thing that comes to mind.
My sister spent her childhood helping raise and take care of me and our little brothers. She selflessly put aside her own wants and needs to ensure we were safe, clean, fed and loved.
I remember one time we were walking home from school and I wet my pants – I was far too old to be having accidents, but in my defence we had to walk an hour and half to get home – and without hesitation my sister took off her school jumper and tied it around my waist.
We then spent the rest of the walk dodging people from school so I wouldn’t get teased or feel embarrassed.
My sister was beautiful (she still is) and I was the awkward little sister that hid in her shadows.
Family and friends gave her a lot of attention for her beauty and talents. Whenever someone would shine a light on her, she would effortlessly redirect the light onto me and proudly tell anyone who would listen something great I was doing at school or share an interesting story about me.
She made me feel really special when it felt like no-one else could see me. Those are just two examples of how selfless and kind she is.
Her superpower was and still is making everyone around her feel seen.
Now, she still continues to shine a light on others in many different ways.
She is a qualified Youth Mentor who facilitates programs for young girls to build their confidence and self-esteem as well as working as a teachers aide at a local primary school.
My sister, Kristine, is my inspiration. She is my best friend and I will spend the rest of my days feeling grateful to have her by my side.
Kris, thank you for making the world a better place for me and anyone who has the privilege to know you. Keep shining your light bright. I love you so much.
Do you have a story for The Daily Telegraph? Message 0481 056 618 or email tips@dailytelegraph.com.au
Inside the organisation giving hope to domestic violence survivors
Inside ReLove, am organisation that helps rehome people in crisis, empowering them to choose everything they need to start again – from couches to cushions, toasters, kettles, blankets and sheets – they even move them in.
Nerd, w*nker, stressed: What your Qld holiday destination says about you
Noosa, Hamilton Island, Gold Coast, Winton, Palm Cove … what does your choice of where you holiday reveal about what type of person you are?