Moving away from shame, guilt and cultural expectations
[⇒ Watch Dunia's video interview here]
Dunia Wojtarowicz grew up in war-torn Lebanon, raised by a single mother in a society that didn’t quite know what to do with that fact.
In a culture where the presence of a father was expected and revered, Dunia’s father was absent—not just from her life, but from all conversation. No one spoke of him. No one explained. And as Dunia got older, the silence became a source of confusion and shame.
“Why don’t I have a father like everyone else?” she remembers wondering. “Why is no one talking about this?” As many children do, she filled in the blanks with blame—assuming the absence must somehow be her fault.
At the same time, her mother, likely weighed down by her own struggles, carried an unspoken sadness. Dunia, still just a child, took on a role that many daughters do in emotionally fragile homes: trying to be the light, the fixer, the reason her mother might smile again.
She believed—deeply—that if she could just be better, do more, or become perfect, she could make her mother happy. She could fix the pain.
Layered into this personal narrative was the broader cultural one: that girls and women held less value. Dunia began to see the subtle and not-so-subtle differences in how boys were treated compared to girls. Her own worth, and even her mother’s, seemed diminished by a system that placed power firmly in male hands.
One memory stood out: needing a new passport, only to be told it required her father’s signature. “But I don’t have a father,” she protested. That didn’t matter. The rule was the rule. Eventually, her uncle intervened—begging and bribing to make it happen. “Why couldn’t my mother sign?” Dunia wondered. The message was clear: her mother didn’t count. And by extension, neither did she.
On top of all this, Dunia lived through the violence and instability of civil war. Her family’s apartment offered little protection. She remembers hiding in the corridor where the walls were thickest—listening to the sounds of bombs and bullets, hoping they wouldn’t reach her. Schools opened and closed depending on the fighting. Car bombs were not rare. And yet life had to go on.
In the midst of all this, Dunia made herself a quiet promise: I will become independent. I will get out. I will not live like this forever.
That strength of will carried her through university, and eventually to Canada—a place that would transform her world. What struck her most wasn’t just the safety, or the peace—it was the diversity.
She met people from every corner of the globe, with different languages, foods, values, ways of being. And suddenly, something she had long suspected became clear: there isn’t just one right way to live. Her upbringing, her cultural norms, her inherited beliefs—they were just one story among many.
But even in Canada, the journey wasn’t over. She married, had children—a daughter first, then two sons—and with motherhood came a whole new layer of questions. How should she raise them? What traditions to keep? What beliefs to let go? As her children grew, she found herself confronting the old scripts from her past.
Sometimes, she would react automatically—then stop and ask herself, “Where did that come from? Does that even make sense anymore?”
Together with her husband, she decided to raise their children not by habit, but by intention—choosing what aligned with their shared values, and encouraging their kids to question everything, too. Her parenting, like her life, became a journey of conscious growth.
It was through this deep personal reflection that Dunia discovered her calling: to support other women navigating similar journeys.
She began working with women from cultural backgrounds where expectations run deep and individual freedom often takes a back seat. Women who felt stuck, silenced, or invisible. Women who, like her, wanted to live life on their own terms but didn’t quite know how.
Her message to them is simple, but radical: you are already powerful. The work she does isn’t about fixing anyone. It’s about reminding them of who they already are. “I’m just a mirror,” she says. “They already have the strength—they just need to see it.”
That includes helping women face the guilt and shame that can come with breaking away from traditional roles. Dunia knows those feelings intimately—from her childhood shame around her father, to her guilt as a mother trying to do things differently. “We think it’s selfish to love ourselves,” she says. “But self-love is the foundation. Without it, we burn out. We resent. We lose ourselves.”
Through self-reflection, coaching, and countless real-life conversations, Dunia helps women see that they are not trapped. That the pain of staying stuck is often greater than the discomfort of change. That it’s okay to rewrite the story.
“You don’t have to move countries like I did,” she says. “Sometimes changing your life starts with something smaller—a job, a friend group, a mindset. The important part is remembering you have a choice.”
Dunia’s life is a testament to that choice. From silence to strength. From shame to self-worth. From surviving to guiding others toward their own freedom.
And she’s still learning, still growing, still becoming.
“I’ll be doing this work until the day I die,” she says with a smile. “Because there’s always more to discover. And because we can move mountains—when we believe in ourselves.”
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