Recently, I was reading comments under a video about Róza Bédy-Schwimmer — the 19th-century feminist activist who played a key role in making work opportunities possible for women in Hungary. One comment said, “Thanks a lot, so now I have to get up early because of her?” Another read, “I wish she hadn’t done it! Who the heck wanted to work?!” Both comments were from women, and several others joined in with cheerful, ironic agreement. Meanwhile, I felt my pulse rising.
I get that these comments were meant as jokes. After a tough workday or during a hard time, cracking a joke like this can feel good. But these jokes don’t come from nowhere, and they’re not harmless. They reflect a deeper, more troubling social attitude: many still don’t understand why it’s so important that women can work, or that they have equal rights and opportunities on paper — and how many people fought hard for this.
When we say, “It would be better if we didn’t have to work,” it’s worth clarifying what “not working” really meant in the last century. Most women back then didn’t live carefree, lounging and sipping tea at home. Most didn’t avoid work by choice — they simply had no other option.
They were excluded from most professions, institutions, and positions. Economically, socially, and legally, they were fully dependent on men — their husbands, fathers, or brothers.
And that doesn’t even mean they weren’t working. Housework, childcare, nursing the sick, and maintaining the home were all their responsibilities — invisible labor that went unpaid, unappreciated, and kept them from gaining independence. For those who didn’t marry, job options were mostly low-paid, physically demanding, and vulnerable roles: domestic help, sewing, factory work, nursing.

The romance of “not working” paints a seriously distorted picture. I think many imagine the women of Bridgerton — though, honestly, what’s fun on screen isn’t so great when you think about it. Who would really want to live a life where their entire future depends on finding a husband at a dance?
Even today, if someone chooses to stay home and be part of a single-income household, that decision is shaped by financial realities, social relationships, and cultural expectations. But today, it can be a choice — back then, it wasn’t. Parts of the world still don’t allow women to work at all — but I doubt any sane woman would willingly move to those places and give up all her rights and freedoms just to avoid going to the office on Monday.
That’s why it horrifies me when someone fails to see that Róza Bédy-Schwimmer and others like her didn’t fight so we’d collapse exhausted on the couch after overtime, but so we have choices.
So we can choose what we want to do with our lives. So no one else decides if we can work, study, or have our own money.
Historical amnesia is dangerous. When we forget where we started and the sacrifices made to get here, it’s easy to shrug off today’s opportunities. But these opportunities aren’t guaranteed. Someone fought for them — and the least we can do is not dismiss that with a lame joke.











