Why Do We Always Push Ourselves Beyond Our Limits?
In today’s fast-paced world, the pressure to push ourselves beyond our limits feels almost unavoidable. From work deadlines to personal goals, the expectation to do more, achieve faster, and be better is everywhere. Social media highlights success stories, while corporate culture rewards non-stop productivity. It’s easy to fall into the trap of believing that slowing down means falling behind.
But what drives this relentless push? Is it ambition, societal pressure, or something deeper within us? Beyond the surface of daily hustle lies a psychological landscape shaped by early life experiences, societal expectations, and our need for connection and validation. Understanding why we push ourselves—and at what cost—requires exploring these forces. Why do we find it so hard to rest, to say “enough,” and to accept our limits as humans? The answer lies not just in what the world demands of us but in what we unconsciously demand from ourselves.
The Modern World’s Relationship with Limits
Our current relationship with limits is deeply influenced by modern societal values rooted in productivity and achievement. The industrial and technological revolutions, which promised to free us from toil through machines and automation, ironically reshaped how we perceive time and worth. With the rise of machine intelligence, many hoped that humanity would finally have more leisure and rest. But instead, technological progress has intensified the demand for constant availability, efficiency, and output.
What was once human is now measured in mechanical terms: output, performance, and productivity. We internalize this, seeing rest as a failure rather than a necessity. To stop or slow down feels like falling behind, as if being human—with our emotional needs, exhaustion, and limitations—is inherently flawed. In a world that runs on speed and production, being bound by human limits feels like being left behind.
The Psychological Roots of Overextension
From a psychoanalytic perspective, the compulsion to push ourselves stems from unconscious emotional drives often formed in early relationships. Our personal histories shape how we relate to success, failure, and self-worth. Many of us internalize expectations from caregivers, teachers, or societal messages, which later manifest in adult life as a need to overachieve.
For example, a child whose value was recognized only through accomplishments might grow into an adult driven by perfectionism, seeking validation through endless productivity. This adult might struggle with feelings of worthlessness unless they are constantly achieving, as though rest invalidates their existence. Similarly, someone who faced instability in early life may believe that control over work and success can compensate for earlier helplessness.
Psychoanalysis also emphasizes the role of unconscious guilt. Many people unknowingly believe they must “earn” rest or joy. They feel guilty when they are not working or accomplishing something tangible, as if stopping threatens their self-worth. This dynamic is reinforced by a society that glorifies hustle and views vulnerability or stillness as weakness.
The Relational Impact of Ignoring Limits
The consequences of ignoring personal limits extend beyond the individual, affecting relationships in profound ways. When people are constantly pushing themselves, they have little energy left for emotional intimacy or meaningful connection. They may become emotionally distant, irritable, or consumed by work, leaving partners, friends, and family feeling neglected or secondary.
Moreover, pushing beyond limits can create unconscious relational conflicts. When one partner in a relationship overworks or strives excessively, they may expect the same level of sacrifice from the other, fostering resentment or feelings of inadequacy. Relationships become transactional, based on productivity rather than emotional presence.
There is also a subtle societal competition in how people discuss being “busy” or “stressed.” It’s almost a badge of honor—a way of saying, “I’m important because I’m constantly needed.” This creates a cycle where being busy becomes a status symbol, making it even harder to honor limits without feeling left behind or insignificant.
The Need to Reclaim Our Humanity
To honor our limits is to reclaim what it means to be human. We are not machines designed for endless production; we are emotional, relational beings whose worth cannot be measured by how much we accomplish. Limits are not flaws to overcome—they are reminders that we exist within a natural rhythm of effort and rest, work and reflection, giving and receiving.
Relational psychoanalysis reminds us that healing comes from being truly seen and accepted, not for what we do but for who we are. Just as a therapist offers unconditional acceptance to a client, we must learn to extend the same compassion to ourselves. Recognizing our limits allows us to reconnect with ourselves and others from a place of authenticity, rather than performance.
In the words of psychoanalyst Donald Winnicott, “It is a joy to be hidden, and a disaster not to be found.” This statement underscores the need for rest, solitude, and being known beyond what we can produce. Allowing ourselves to be “hidden”—to pause, to breathe—doesn’t make us weak. It allows us to be found again by others and, most importantly, by ourselves.
The limits we push against are often the very boundaries that preserve our humanity. Acknowledging them doesn’t mean giving up; it means embracing the fullness of life—its highs and lows, its action and rest. We are not infinite, and that is not a limitation. It is what makes us beautifully, imperfectly human.
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Why Do We Feel Tired All the Time? A Relational Perspective
In our increasingly fast-paced world, fatigue is a common complaint. But often, chronic tiredness goes deeper than a lack of sleep or a busy schedule—it’s rooted in emotional, relational, and cultural dynamics that silently weigh us down. From a psychoanalytic and relational perspective, fatigue can be seen as the body and mind’s way of signaling an imbalance or a cry for deeper self-awareness.
Fatigue as a Mirror of Emotional States
Fatigue often reflects what we’re holding onto emotionally. Think of it as a symptom of carrying too much invisible weight—unresolved conflicts, suppressed feelings, or unspoken fears. For instance, a fear of failure might make someone overwork themselves, while avoiding rest due to guilt can lead to relentless fatigue.
Take Arjun, for example. A young father juggling a demanding job and family life, Arjun feels exhausted every day. On closer reflection, he realizes his tiredness isn’t just physical. It stems from his unresolved anxiety about providing for his family, driven by an unconscious fear of repeating his own childhood experience of financial instability.
The Cultural Context of Fatigue
In India, where interdependence often takes precedence over individual autonomy, fatigue is closely tied to cultural dynamics. Indian society places immense value on roles like being the “ideal son,” “selfless mother,” or “strong breadwinner,” leaving little room for emotional rest or personal exploration.
A recent trend among urban Indian men showcases the emotional toll of modernity and tradition colliding. For instance, men who work in corporate environments often struggle to reconcile professional aspirations with traditional family expectations. This dual pressure can leave them feeling drained, not just from physical labor but from the emotional load of navigating conflicting identities.
Relational psychoanalysts note that fatigue in such cases arises from the tension of holding two selves: the one striving for external validation and the one yearning for authenticity.
The Role of Unprocessed Trauma
Unprocessed trauma—whether big or small—plays a significant role in chronic fatigue. Relational wounds from childhood, such as feeling unseen or undervalued, often linger into adulthood. These wounds silently influence our choices and behaviors, draining our energy over time.
Consider Nisha, a successful artist who constantly feels the need to prove her worth. Her drive stems from a childhood where her achievements were the only way to gain her parents’ attention. Now, as an adult, she struggles to rest, fearing that slowing down will make her insignificant. Her fatigue is a signal of the emotional wounds that remain unhealed.
Relational Aspects of Fatigue
Relationships are meant to energize us, but when dynamics are unbalanced, they can drain us instead. A one-sided friendship, an overly critical partner, or unresolved family conflicts can leave us feeling perpetually tired.
From a relational psychoanalytic perspective, these dynamics often reflect early attachment patterns. For example, someone who grew up needing to earn affection may unconsciously recreate this dynamic in adult relationships, constantly giving but rarely receiving, which eventually leads to emotional burnout.
Kavita, a single mother, experiences this firsthand. She spends her days caring for her children and her elderly parents, but rarely asks for help. Her exhaustion stems not just from her responsibilities but from the unspoken belief that her worth is tied to how much she gives.
The Modern-Day Paradox: Always On, Never Rested
Modern technology and cultural norms have further complicated our relationship with rest. The constant ping of notifications, the pressure to stay connected, and the glorification of hustle culture create an environment where true rest feels indulgent, even irresponsible.
Ironically, the roots of this predicament can be traced back to the Enlightenment and the scientific revolutions that followed. As machine intelligence and automation began to develop, these advancements were heralded as tools to save time and simplify human labor. The hope was that humans would finally have more leisure, more opportunities for creativity, and a chance to live fuller lives. Yet, the opposite seems to have occurred. Instead of gaining time, we find ourselves running faster on a never-ending treadmill of productivity.
Machines and technology haven’t freed us; they’ve raised expectations. They’ve enabled us to work faster and longer, making us feel that rest is a luxury we can’t afford. In this always-on culture, it’s not just our time that’s being consumed but also our emotional bandwidth. The constant cycle of checking emails, responding to notifications, or scrolling social media doesn’t merely drain our time; it pulls at our emotional energy, leaving us perpetually fatigued.
This paradox highlights a critical relational dimension: how we relate to time, work, and ourselves. Are we using technology to enhance our lives, or are we letting it dictate our worth and identity? Recognizing this dynamic is crucial for reclaiming rest and redefining the balance between productivity and well-being.
Listening to Fatigue: A Path to Healing
Fatigue, when viewed through a psychoanalytic lens, is a message from the body and mind. It’s an invitation to pause and reflect on what might be out of alignment.
Acknowledging Emotional Roots: Start by exploring what your fatigue might be telling you. Are there unresolved feelings you’re avoiding? Are your relationships balanced, or do they require more emotional labor than you can give?
Setting Boundaries: Learn to protect your energy by setting limits in relationships, work, and personal commitments. This doesn’t mean shutting people out—it means recognizing what you can realistically offer without depleting yourself.
Seeking Authenticity: Reflect on whether you’re living in alignment with your true desires or adhering to societal and relational expectations at the cost of your well-being.
Professional Help: Therapy can provide a safe space to unpack these dynamics, helping you understand how past experiences and relational patterns contribute to your fatigue.
Conclusion: Fatigue as a Guide
Fatigue is not the enemy; it’s a signal. Instead of viewing it as a problem to fix, consider it an opportunity to delve deeper into the emotional and relational aspects of your life. By addressing the unspoken conflicts, unmet needs, and societal pressures that contribute to your exhaustion, you can begin to heal. In doing so, you’ll not only reclaim your energy but also foster a more authentic and fulfilling connection with yourself and others.
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Why Do We Struggle to Set Boundaries? A Relational Perspective
From a relational and psychoanalytic perspective, the difficulty in setting boundaries often stems from deep-seated emotional patterns, unconscious relational dynamics, and early attachment experiences. Boundaries are not just about saying “no” or protecting personal space—they are an essential part of how we define ourselves in relation to others. Understanding the struggles with boundaries requires a closer look at our emotional and relational histories.
Boundaries as a Relational Construct
Boundaries are shaped by how we’ve been taught to relate to others. In psychoanalytic terms, the self is formed in relation to the “other” (parent, caregiver, or significant figures). If a child grows up in an environment where their needs are consistently dismissed, over-indulged, or not clearly understood, they may develop blurred boundaries as adults. They might struggle to assert their needs, fearing rejection, guilt, or loss of connection.
For example, a child who learns that love is conditional—offered only when they meet certain expectations—may grow into an adult who overextends themselves to please others. Setting boundaries in this context feels risky because it threatens the relational dynamic they’ve come to depend on.
Guilt and Fear in Boundary Setting
Boundary struggles often involve feelings of guilt and fear:
- Fear of Rejection: Saying “no” can evoke anxiety about being abandoned or perceived as unloving. Psychoanalyst Donald Winnicott’s concept of the “false self” helps explain this. The false self develops as a defense mechanism to maintain relationships by pleasing others, even at the cost of personal authenticity.
- Guilt Over Prioritizing Self: In many cultural and familial contexts, prioritizing oneself is seen as selfish. This guilt can prevent individuals from setting healthy boundaries, especially in collectivist cultures like India, where family obligations are deeply ingrained.
Internalized Messages About Worth
From a psychoanalytic perspective, struggles with boundaries can also be linked to internalized messages about self-worth. If someone has grown up believing they must “earn” love through sacrifice, they may unconsciously allow others to overstep their boundaries. Relational therapy often focuses on uncovering these unconscious beliefs and exploring how they play out in present-day relationships.
The Role of Early Attachment Patterns
Attachment theory provides another lens to understand boundary difficulties. Individuals with insecure attachment styles, such as anxious or avoidant attachment, often have distorted perceptions of boundaries:
- Anxiously Attached Individuals: They may overextend themselves, unable to say “no,” for fear of pushing others away.
- Avoidantly Attached Individuals: They might set excessively rigid boundaries to avoid vulnerability, stemming from a fear of being hurt.
These patterns are shaped by early relationships with caregivers. A child who experiences inconsistent caregiving may grow up feeling unsure about how much of themselves they can safely offer to others, leading to either over- or under-engagement in adult relationships.
Societal and Cultural Influences on Boundaries
Society and culture also play a significant role. In patriarchal systems, for example, women are often socialized to prioritize others’ needs over their own. Men, too, face boundary struggles but are conditioned to express dominance or invulnerability, which can lead to difficulty respecting others’ boundaries.
In Indian contexts, traditional values emphasize familial interdependence, often at the expense of individual autonomy. This can make it challenging for individuals to assert personal boundaries without feeling disloyal or selfish.
Relational Healing and Boundary Work
Therapy offers a space to explore these dynamics and rebuild a healthier relationship with boundaries. Through the lens of relational psychoanalysis:
- Awareness of Patterns: Therapy helps individuals recognize how their relational histories shape their present struggles with boundaries.
- Building Self-Compassion: Acknowledging and validating past wounds fosters self-compassion, which is crucial for asserting boundaries without guilt.
- Practicing Boundaries in Relationships: The therapeutic relationship itself becomes a space to practice boundary setting, allowing clients to experiment with assertiveness in a safe environment.
For example, a client might explore how their reluctance to say “no” to a friend mirrors childhood experiences of feeling unheard or unimportant. Gradually, they can learn to say “no” in a way that feels respectful to themselves and others.
Conclusion: Boundaries as a Path to Authentic Connection
Setting boundaries is not about keeping people out; it’s about creating space for healthier, more authentic connections. Relational psychoanalysis reminds us that boundaries are not fixed but dynamic—they reflect our evolving needs and relationships. Healing boundary struggles involves uncovering the unconscious fears and beliefs that keep us stuck, practicing new ways of relating, and allowing ourselves the freedom to prioritize both connection and self-care.
Boundaries, at their core, are an act of self-respect. They invite us to honor our own needs while nurturing meaningful relationships with others.
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Why Do We Compare Ourselves to Others? A Relational Perspective
Comparison is an almost universal experience. Whether scrolling through social media, observing colleagues at work, or hearing about a friend’s success, we often measure our lives against others. But why do we do this, even when it leaves us feeling diminished or unworthy? From a relational lens, this behavior is not merely superficial or competitive; it reveals deeper psychological dynamics rooted in our sense of self, early relationships, and societal pressures.
The Roots of Comparison in Early Relationships
In psychoanalysis, our early relational experiences shape how we perceive ourselves and others. As infants, we develop our sense of self in relation to caregivers, absorbing their responses to our needs and emotions. When caregivers mirror us positively—reflecting back warmth, love, and validation—we develop a secure sense of self-worth. But when this mirroring is inconsistent, critical, or absent, we may internalize feelings of inadequacy or unworthiness.
Comparison often arises as an extension of this early relational dynamic. If we didn’t receive consistent validation, we might look outward to others as a way of assessing our value. This external reference point becomes a survival strategy to answer internal questions like: Am I good enough? Do I measure up?
The Role of the “Ideal Self”
Psychoanalytic theorists like Donald Winnicott and Heinz Kohut explore the concept of the ideal self, an internalized image of what we believe we should be. This ideal is often shaped by parental expectations, cultural norms, and societal standards. When we compare ourselves to others, we are often measuring ourselves against this idealized version of who we think we ought to be, rather than embracing who we are.
For example, a person might feel inadequate when seeing someone with a successful career or a seemingly perfect family. Beneath the surface, this may reflect unresolved anxieties about meeting internalized expectations of success, competence, or relational fulfillment.
The Cultural Dimension of Comparison
Relational psychoanalysis emphasizes that our identities are shaped not only by personal relationships but also by broader cultural and societal influences. In modern society, comparison is amplified by pervasive cultural messages about success, beauty, and happiness. Social media, in particular, presents curated, idealized versions of people’s lives, making it easy to feel as though we fall short.
Ashis Nandy, in his critique of postcolonial masculinity, highlights how societal pressures create rigid ideals of manliness, success, and strength. Similarly, Sudhir Kakar discusses how familial and cultural dynamics in India often place men under intense pressure to conform to societal expectations. This dynamic is not limited to men; people across genders experience societal pressures that fuel comparison and self-doubt.
The Interplay of Shame and Envy
Comparison often evokes feelings of shame or envy, both of which have deep psychoanalytic roots. Shame arises when we feel exposed, inadequate, or unworthy in comparison to others. Envy, on the other hand, emerges when we desire what someone else has but feel unable to attain it.
These emotions are not inherently “bad”; rather, they are signals pointing to unmet needs or unresolved conflicts within us. For instance, envy of a friend’s thriving career might reveal a deep desire for professional recognition or fulfillment that hasn’t been addressed.
Why We Compare—and How We Can Heal
From a relational perspective, comparison is not simply a flaw in our thinking but a reflection of our human need for connection and validation. We compare ourselves because we long to understand where we stand in the world and how we are valued by others. However, this strategy often backfires, leading to feelings of inadequacy and isolation.
Healing involves shifting the focus inward, reconnecting with our own needs, desires, and values rather than measuring ourselves against external standards. Relational psychotherapy offers a unique space to explore these dynamics. Through the therapeutic relationship, clients can examine how early experiences, societal messages, and internalized ideals contribute to their tendency to compare.
Practical Steps to Move Beyond Comparison
While deep healing takes time, there are steps we can take to reduce the grip of comparison in our daily lives:
Cultivate Self-Awareness: Notice when you are comparing yourself to others and reflect on what triggers these thoughts. Are there patterns tied to specific areas of your life, like relationships, work, or appearance?
Reconnect with Your Values: Ask yourself what truly matters to you, independent of societal expectations. Focusing on your own goals and values can reduce the pull of external comparisons.
Challenge the “Ideal Self”: Reflect on whether your internalized ideals are realistic or even your own. Are they rooted in your true desires, or do they reflect someone else’s expectations?
Practice Gratitude and Self-Compassion: Instead of fixating on what others have, acknowledge your own strengths, achievements, and growth. Treat yourself with the kindness you would offer a friend.
Limit Social Media Exposure: Be mindful of how much time you spend on platforms that amplify comparison. Consider curating your feed to include content that inspires rather than diminishes you.
Conclusion
Comparing ourselves to others is a deeply human tendency, shaped by our early relationships, societal pressures, and emotional dynamics. By understanding the roots of this behavior through a relational and psychoanalytic lens, we can begin to break free from its grip. The journey involves not only exploring the wounds that fuel comparison but also cultivating a deeper connection with ourselves—one that honors our unique worth and experiences. In doing so, we create space for authentic growth, self-acceptance, and meaningful connections with others.
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Why Do We Say ‘Yes’ When We Really Mean ‘No’? A Relational Perspective
Saying “yes” when we really mean “no” is a common human experience. At the surface, it might appear to be simply an issue of people-pleasing or not wanting to disappoint others. However, a deeper exploration through psychoanalysis and relational theory reveals a far more complex psychological dynamic at play. These seemingly harmless or, at times, impulsive concessions are often rooted in unresolved emotional conflicts, relational patterns, and deep-seated anxieties. Understanding why we say “yes” when we mean “no” can be transformative in developing healthier relational dynamics and a stronger sense of self.
The Fear of Disapproval: A Relational Root
At the core of this behaviour is the universal desire to be liked and accepted. From a relational psychoanalytic perspective, humans are wired for connection. Our relationships are vital to our sense of self-worth. The fear of rejection and disapproval can lead us to prioritize others’ needs and desires over our own. Saying “yes” when we mean “no” is an unconscious attempt to preserve relationships and avoid the emotional discomfort that may arise from setting boundaries.
This behaviour can be traced back to early childhood experiences. For instance, children may learn that saying “no” or asserting themselves leads to negative consequences, such as parental anger or emotional withdrawal. Over time, these early relational experiences shape the way we interact with others. We may internalize the belief that love and acceptance are conditional upon our ability to please, and as adults, this belief can manifest in an unconscious fear of conflict and disapproval. The relational pressure to please others and maintain harmony can be so intense that we override our own needs and desires in the process.
People-Pleasing as an Identity
People-pleasing, a term often used to describe the tendency to say “yes” at the expense of one’s own desires, is more than just a behavioural trait—it can become part of one’s identity. Psychoanalytically, people-pleasing behaviours often emerge from unresolved relational dynamics. Individuals who were raised in environments where their needs were ignored or undervalued might develop a pattern of pleasing others in order to feel worthy or loved.
This people-pleasing behavior is often a coping mechanism to avoid feelings of anxiety, guilt, and fear of abandonment. When someone feels that their worth is contingent on the approval of others, they may say “yes” even when it contradicts their true feelings. This dynamic can be seen in both personal and professional relationships, where individuals suppress their authentic desires in order to meet the expectations of others. While this might seem like an effective strategy in the short term, it ultimately leads to feelings of resentment, burnout, and a loss of self-identity.
The Role of Childhood Conditioning
The psychoanalytic theory of transference, where unconscious patterns from childhood are projected onto current relationships, plays a significant role in why we say “yes” when we mean “no.” In early childhood, children may have learned that saying “no” or expressing their own needs could result in emotional withdrawal, punishment, or rejection from caregivers. This formative experience shapes how children later engage with authority figures, peers, and loved ones in adulthood.
For instance, a child raised in an environment where emotional needs were ignored or met with conditional love might learn that saying “no” leads to feelings of abandonment. To prevent this, they may begin to prioritize others’ needs over their own. This conditioning may carry over into adulthood, where an individual might struggle to assert themselves in relationships for fear of repeating past relational wounds. These internalized messages are so deeply embedded that we may not even be fully conscious of them, yet they significantly impact our behaviour in relationships.
Anxiety and the Unconscious Need for Connection
Saying “yes” when we mean “no” is often an unconscious attempt to manage anxiety. The discomfort of asserting ourselves, particularly in emotionally charged situations, can be overwhelming. Psychoanalytically, we might interpret this anxiety as a fear of emotional disconnection. We fear that saying “no” might jeopardize a relationship, whether it be with a partner, friend, family member, or colleague. The fear of emotional abandonment can be so strong that we override our true feelings to maintain a connection, even if that connection ultimately comes at the cost of our own well-being.
From a relational perspective, this behaviour is rooted in our need for emotional safety. Humans are social beings who thrive on connection, and relational bonds are integral to our emotional health. However, when these connections feel threatened by the potential of rejection or conflict, we may prioritize the relationship over ourselves. This relational anxiety can make it difficult to say “no” because doing so would mean risking vulnerability and the possibility of disconnection.
The Emotional Cost of Saying “Yes” When We Mean “No”
While saying “yes” to others may seem like a path to maintaining harmonious relationships, it often comes with emotional costs. When we repeatedly suppress our own desires to accommodate others, we begin to lose touch with our authentic selves. This disconnection from our true needs leads to feelings of frustration, resentment, and emotional burnout.
Over time, the accumulation of unexpressed desires can result in a deep sense of dissatisfaction with one’s life. For example, an individual who consistently says “yes” to additional work responsibilities may begin to feel overwhelmed, stressed, and unappreciated, eventually leading to burnout. Similarly, in personal relationships, repeatedly sacrificing one’s own needs to please others can lead to feelings of emotional depletion and a sense of disconnection from one’s true self.
Reclaiming the Power of “No”
One of the most empowering steps toward healing is learning to say “no” in a way that feels authentic and respectful of both oneself and others. Therapy, particularly relational psychoanalysis, provides a safe space to explore the unconscious patterns that contribute to this people-pleasing behaviour. Through the therapeutic process, individuals can begin to uncover the root causes of their anxiety and fear of disapproval and work to develop healthier ways of asserting boundaries.
Relational psychoanalysis emphasizes the importance of understanding how our early relational experiences shape our current interactions. In therapy, the therapist-client relationship itself becomes a space where the client can begin to practice saying “no” in a safe and supportive environment. By doing so, individuals begin to rebuild their sense of self-respect and autonomy.
Moving Toward Healthy Boundaries
Learning to say “no” is an essential aspect of developing healthy boundaries. Boundaries are not about rejecting others or pushing them away; they are about creating a clear distinction between our needs and the needs of others. Healthy boundaries allow us to prioritize our own well-being without the fear of rejection or disapproval. In doing so, we honour our emotional needs and cultivate more authentic, balanced relationships.
Saying “no” when we mean “no” is not a selfish act; it is an act of self-respect. It is a way of honouring our own emotions and asserting our needs in a way that promotes both personal well-being and relational health. By reclaiming the ability to say “no,” we begin to nurture healthier, more fulfilling relationships—starting with the one we have with ourselves.
Conclusion
In conclusion, saying “yes” when we mean “no” is a complex behaviour that is deeply rooted in relational dynamics, early conditioning, and unconscious fears. By exploring these dynamics through psychoanalysis and relational theory, we can begin to understand the underlying causes of our tendency to prioritize others over ourselves. Therapy provides a valuable space to explore these patterns and develop the skills necessary to assert healthy boundaries. Learning to say “no” is not only an act of self-preservation; it is a profound step toward building more authentic and fulfilling relationships with others and with ourselves.
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Men’s Mental Health and Masculinity in India: A Relational and Cultural Lens
In the evolving discourse on mental health, men’s struggles often remain underexplored, particularly in culturally complex societies like India. This neglect stems from deeply ingrained notions of masculinity that shape men’s inner worlds and their relationships with society. The intersection of masculinity, marginalization, and mental health in India offers profound insights into the relational and societal forces at play. The societal norms and expectations surrounding masculinity have undergone significant shifts, especially during and after colonization. By integrating insights from psychoanalysis and cultural studies, we can better understand how these dynamics impact men’s mental health today.
Before colonization, Indian masculinity was deeply intertwined with relational and spiritual aspects. Sudhir Kakar, in his psychoanalytic explorations, describes how traditional Indian men maintained close emotional ties, particularly with their mothers, fostering a form of masculinity distinct from the Western ideal of independence and detachment. These bonds often allowed for a greater emotional expression and intimacy within familial relationships, where vulnerability was not necessarily viewed as weakness. However, Ashis Nandy offers a contrasting narrative, highlighting how British colonization reshaped Indian masculinity. Colonial rule imposed Western ideals of manliness—rationality, emotional suppression, physical strength, and dominance. The colonizers framed their version of masculinity as superior, casting Indian men as effeminate and weak. This not only eroded indigenous understandings of masculinity but also stigmatized emotional vulnerability. In post-colonial India, these colonial ideals persist, with men striving to embody a hyper-masculine identity that validates strength and stoicism while dismissing vulnerability. Men who fail to meet these standards often face ridicule or social exclusion, further isolating them and worsening their mental health struggles.
Masculinity and Mental Health: A Complex Interplay
Masculinity in India is tightly bound to cultural expectations that emphasize emotional stoicism, physical endurance, and financial success. From childhood, boys are told to “man up” and suppress vulnerability, creating a rift between their emotional experiences and external behaviors. This disconnection, often described as “toxic masculinity,” does not arise in isolation but is shaped by relationships, societal structures, and historical legacies.
Relational psychoanalysis offers a compelling lens to understand this dynamic. According to this perspective, our early relationships with caregivers and societal messages profoundly shape how we see ourselves and others. For many men, the constant pressure to conform to ideals of masculinity creates a fragile sense of self. They may internalize a harsh inner critic that punishes vulnerability and celebrates hyper-independence.
Men often internalize the voices of authority figures—parents, teachers, or societal norms—as “inner critics” that demand conformity to masculine ideals. These internalized voices can create a split in the psyche:
- The ideal self strives to embody strength, control, and success.
- The real self often feels inadequate, vulnerable, or overwhelmed.
This split creates an internal conflict that manifests in symptoms like guilt, shame, or feelings of failure.
For instance, a man struggling to meet societal expectations as the sole provider for his family may experience feelings of inadequacy when he cannot meet these demands. However, instead of acknowledging these emotions, he might resort to anger, withdrawal, or substance abuse to cope.
Cultural and Societal Pressures
In India, the added layer of socio-economic disparity amplifies these struggles. Men from marginalized communities face systemic oppression that intersects with the pressures of masculinity. The expectation to be strong providers and protectors becomes doubly challenging when access to resources, employment, and dignity is systematically denied.
For example, a migrant laborer working in urban India not only grapples with financial instability but also experiences alienation from his family and community. This isolation compounds his emotional distress, yet seeking therapy might feel like a distant luxury, given societal stigmas and financial constraints.
Even within the urban middle class, the modern pressures of performance—be it academic, professional, or relational—are immense. Men are often caught between traditional ideals of masculinity and modern aspirations of equality and emotional intimacy. This tension creates a psychological burden, often leading to anxiety, depression, or burnout.
The Role of Relationships in Healing
Relational psychoanalysis emphasizes that healing occurs through relationships rather than in isolation. Men’s mental health challenges are not merely individual struggles; they are relational and societal in origin. Therapy, therefore, provides a unique space where men can explore their vulnerabilities, process their relational wounds, and rebuild healthier connections.
Take the example of a man who hesitates to show affection to his partner due to his upbringing, where emotional expressions were labeled as weaknesses. In therapy, he might uncover how his father’s distant behavior shaped his belief system. Through relational exploration, he can begin to reframe his understanding of intimacy and connection, enabling more meaningful relationships.
Such healing, however, cannot be confined to individual therapy alone. Societal change is equally vital. Campaigns promoting emotional literacy among boys and men, workplace policies encouraging mental well-being, and community support systems can foster an environment where vulnerability is no longer a liability.
Dismantling Stigmas and Moving Forward
The path to addressing men’s mental health lies in challenging harmful stereotypes and fostering a culture of openness. This means redefining masculinity to include emotional depth, relational intimacy, and the courage to seek help. It also means addressing systemic barriers that prevent men, especially those from marginalized backgrounds, from accessing mental health services.
In India, mental health care must be made affordable, accessible, and culturally sensitive. This includes initiatives that integrate mental health discussions into schools, workplaces, and community spaces. Peer support groups for men, particularly those in rural or economically disadvantaged areas, can also be powerful.
Ultimately, men’s mental health is not just about treating symptoms but about reimagining societal norms. It is about creating a world where men are free to express their full range of emotions, build meaningful relationships, and embrace their humanity without fear or judgment.
As we strive for this change, the words of psychoanalyst Nancy McWilliams resonate deeply: “Healing emerges through relationships, not through isolation.”. By addressing men’s mental health relationally and culturally, we can pave the way for a more inclusive and empathetic society.
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Why We Feel So Disconnected in A Connected World?
In today’s hyper-connected world, we have more ways than ever to stay in touch. Social media, messaging apps, video calls, and emails keep us looped into each other’s lives constantly. Yet, an overwhelming number of people report feeling lonely, disconnected, or even alienated from those around them. Why is it that, despite this technological closeness, we often feel so emotionally distant? Through a psychoanalytic and relational lens, we can explore some of the deeper reasons for this modern sense of disconnection.
The Illusion of Connection: Quantity vs. Quality
While we may have hundreds or thousands of “friends” on social media, the quality of these relationships often lacks depth. In psychoanalytic terms, true connection relies on authentic, vulnerable exchanges where we feel truly seen and understood by another. This requires time, mutuality, and presence—qualities often missing in a quick text or “like” on a photo. Shallow interactions, though numerous, don’t fulfill our need for genuine connection. It’s like skimming the surface without ever diving into the depths.
In relational psychoanalysis, thinkers like Stephen Mitchell and Jessica Benjamin emphasize the importance of “shared reality” and the “recognition process.” This is the idea that feeling connected goes beyond superficial acknowledgment; it requires an exchange that affirms our reality and values the unique nuances of who we are. Unfortunately, the brevity and speed of online interactions rarely allow for this kind of relational depth, leading us to feel unseen, even among hundreds of “friends.”
Social Media and the Performance of Self
On social media, we often curate and present idealized versions of ourselves, consciously or unconsciously hiding the messy, complex parts. While this polished portrayal may attract admiration, it can also amplify feelings of isolation. This dissonance, between the online persona and our true selves, can be jarring. We may gain validation for a carefully edited photo or update, but our unfiltered emotions and authentic struggles remain hidden.
This practice creates a type of “false self,” a concept introduced by psychoanalyst D.W. Winnicott. He described the “false self” as a defensive facade that people construct to hide vulnerabilities. When we interact through a persona, we create a distance between our inner world and how we’re perceived. Though social media offers us a constant flow of interaction, it often reinforces this facade, making it harder to connect genuinely. We receive validation for an image that doesn’t fully represent us, leading to a sense of inner emptiness or disconnection.
The Loneliness of Constant Comparison
Endless scrolling exposes us to a curated highlight reel of other people’s lives, leading to comparisons that can sap our self-esteem. Seeing others’ successes, relationships, and adventures can trigger feelings of inadequacy and amplify insecurities, especially when we’re struggling. This type of engagement lacks reciprocity and doesn’t allow us to feel truly known or connected.
Psychoanalyst Heinz Kohut’s concept of “self-object needs” can provide insight here. Kohut argued that we need others to help us form a cohesive sense of self; we look to people as “self-objects” who mirror our worth and stability. Online, though, we’re flooded with comparison rather than genuine mirroring. While we look for validation, we often encounter competition, triggering self-doubt rather than connection. Over time, this can weaken our sense of self-worth and leave us feeling isolated.
The Decline of Uninterrupted, Real-Life Connections
Relational psychoanalysis suggests that human connection is a dance of presence and attunement. This type of connection happens when people are fully present, without distractions. However, our constant access to technology interrupts these moments. We’re often physically present but mentally elsewhere, half-engaged in conversation while checking notifications.
These interruptions may seem trivial, but they chip away at the feeling of being truly valued and understood. Imagine sharing something meaningful with someone only to find them glancing at their phone mid-sentence. This lack of attunement can make us feel unseen, fostering an emotional distance that leads to a deeper sense of isolation.
The Cycle of Disconnection and Escapism
When we feel isolated, we often turn back to the very devices and platforms that contribute to this sense of disconnection. We scroll, swipe, and refresh as a way of coping with loneliness, hoping to find something that will fill the void. However, each time we turn to our devices for comfort, we are reinforcing a cycle where we avoid true connection and settle for temporary distractions. This reinforces the disconnection rather than alleviating it, keeping us trapped in a loop.
Psychoanalytically speaking, this is a form of avoidance. Instead of facing uncomfortable emotions or exploring the roots of our loneliness, we’re sidetracked by fleeting notifications or viral videos. This leaves us both emotionally unsatisfied and dependent on a form of engagement that never fully meets our relational needs.
Moving Toward Real Connection: Suggestions for Breaking the Cycle
- Cultivate Presence in Relationships: Start by being fully present when you’re with others. Put away devices during conversations, and give undivided attention to the people you’re with. This small change can foster trust, intimacy, and a sense of being valued.
- Set Boundaries with Technology: Create specific times for checking notifications, and avoid using your phone as an emotional crutch. By reducing impulsive scrolling, you open up time to process your thoughts and engage in meaningful activities.
- Engage in Self-Reflection: If you find yourself picking up your phone during moments of discomfort, take a pause. Ask yourself what emotion you’re trying to avoid. Are you feeling lonely, anxious, or bored? By facing these emotions directly, you can learn to cope with them more constructively.
- Seek Depth Over Quantity: Try to deepen a few close relationships rather than scattering your attention across many superficial connections. Investing in fewer, more meaningful friendships can fulfill your relational needs in a way that online interactions rarely do.
- Engage in Self-Compassion and Authenticity: Practice being open about your struggles and imperfections. Vulnerability is the foundation of trust, and true connection is often formed through shared authentic experiences. By being honest about who you are, you invite others to do the same.
A World of Connection Requires Intentional Effort
Despite the barriers created by technology, the ability to forge meaningful connections remains within our reach. By understanding why we feel disconnected and actively choosing depth and presence over convenience, we can begin to cultivate relationships that truly fulfill us.
Ultimately, connection requires a level of vulnerability and a willingness to be present that goes beyond likes, shares, or quick exchanges. Through self-awareness and intentional effort, we can foster the real, lasting bonds that make us feel deeply connected in an increasingly digital world.
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Why Do We Keep Apologizing? A Relational Perspective
Apologizing can be a healthy way to acknowledge mistakes, repair relationships, and show respect. However, some of us seem compelled to apologize constantly—even when it isn’t necessary. This pattern of over-apologizing can reveal deep-rooted emotional and relational dynamics. From a psychoanalytic and relational perspective, frequent apologizing may stem from early life experiences, internalized beliefs about self-worth, and a desire to maintain emotional stability within relationships.
Understanding the Urge to Apologize
At its core, an apology signals that we recognize how our actions affect others, and in relational terms, it’s a way to maintain harmony. But when we apologize excessively, often in situations where there’s no apparent fault, we may actually be managing internal anxiety and fears rather than genuinely responding to the needs of others. Let’s delve deeper into why this happens.
1. Early Life Experiences and Self-Worth
Over-apologizing often traces back to early childhood experiences, especially in environments where love, acceptance, or stability seemed conditional. For example, a child who grows up in a household where they’re frequently criticized or punished for minor infractions might internalize the belief that they’re always on the verge of doing something wrong. This internalized guilt and fear of disapproval can manifest later in life as an automatic reflex to apologize, even when they’ve done nothing wrong.
- Example: Imagine a young woman, Kavya, who frequently apologizes at work for things outside her control—like the weather affecting a scheduled meeting or an unexpected delay in an email response. If she examines her family dynamics, she may recall that as a child, she was often blamed for situations beyond her control, leading her to apologize as a way to preempt criticism or disappointment.
In psychoanalysis, this pattern of over-apologizing can be seen as a repetition compulsion, where individuals unconsciously repeat behaviours from their past in an attempt to master unresolved emotional conflicts.
2. Anxiety and the Desire for Control
Anxiety often fuels the need to apologize. Apologizing can become a coping mechanism for alleviating feelings of uncertainty or discomfort. When faced with situations that trigger anxiety, people may apologize as a way to regain a sense of control and protect themselves from potential conflict or disapproval.
- Example: Ahmad, a college student, often apologizes for taking up “too much space” during discussions, even when he’s asked to share his opinion. For Ahmad, apologizing is a way to avoid potential judgment or rejection. The act of apologizing gives him a sense of control, making him feel as though he’s preemptively addressing any possible disappointment from others.
This behaviour can also be linked to what psychoanalysis calls the superego, an internalized voice of societal and parental expectations. When the superego is overly harsh, individuals experience heightened self-criticism and anxiety, leading them to apologize even when it’s unnecessary.
3. Relational Dynamics and Maintaining Emotional Safety
From a relational perspective, constant apologizing can signal a deep-seated need to maintain harmony and emotional safety. Apologizing serves as a relational tool to bridge gaps or mitigate tension. For individuals who fear conflict, apologies act as a buffer, keeping relationships “safe” by appeasing others, even at the expense of one’s own needs or boundaries.
- Example: For Preeti, saying “I’m sorry” is almost automatic in her close relationships, even when someone else is at fault. Her friends have noticed that she often says, “I’m sorry you feel that way” when they express frustration, even though she isn’t responsible for their emotions. Preeti’s apology is her way of maintaining emotional closeness; in her mind, avoiding friction is more important than pointing out when she isn’t at fault.
Relational therapy suggests that such patterns stem from early attachment experiences. If a person learnt that expressing emotions or asserting boundaries leads to withdrawal or punishment, they may develop an automatic tendency to apologize, using it as a tool to keep relationships stable and prevent abandonment.
4. People-Pleasing and Fear of Rejection
For many, over-apologizing is intertwined with people-pleasing behaviours. People who struggle with self-worth often feel a strong need for external validation and fear disapproval or rejection. Apologizing excessively becomes a way to seek acceptance, implicitly asking for reassurance that they’re not causing harm.
- Example: Abhishekh apologizes for everything, even minor mistakes like mispronouncing someone’s name. Deep down, Abhishekh fears that if he doesn’t apologize, people will think less of him. His apologetic behavior stems from a desire to be seen as kind, non-threatening, and likable—a form of self-protection against the fear of social rejection.
Psychoanalytically, people-pleasing can be linked to the false self-concept, where individuals suppress their authentic feelings to meet the perceived needs of others. Over time, people-pleasers may lose touch with their own needs and boundaries, resulting in excessive apologizing.
5. Difficulty Asserting Boundaries
Some people find it difficult to assert their boundaries, and apologizing becomes a way to navigate this discomfort. When boundaries feel too intimidating or unfamiliar to set firmly, an apology can serve as a “softening” mechanism that minimizes potential backlash.
- Example: Somya often says, “I’m so sorry, but I can’t make it,” instead of simply stating her unavailability. Her habit of apologizing reflects an underlying discomfort with setting clear boundaries, stemming from a fear of being seen as inconsiderate or selfish.
In relational therapy, developing a stronger sense of self and autonomy can help individuals move away from excessive apologies. Building confidence in setting boundaries allows people to communicate directly and clearly without feeling the need to diminish their own needs through apologies.
Breaking the Cycle of Over-Apologizing
Recognizing and shifting this pattern of over-apologizing requires self-awareness and a willingness to confront the underlying emotions and beliefs. Here are a few steps toward understanding and addressing this behaviour:
- Notice the Context
Begin by paying attention to when you feel the urge to apologize. Are there specific situations or people that trigger this response? Are you apologizing for something beyond your control or for simply expressing yourself? - Pause and Reflect
Before automatically saying “I’m sorry,” take a moment to reflect. Ask yourself, “Is this apology necessary? Am I genuinely at fault, or am I apologizing out of habit?” - Challenge Internalized Beliefs
Reflect on the beliefs fueling your need to apologize. Do you feel responsible for others’ emotions? Are you afraid of conflict or rejection? Consider how these beliefs developed and whether they’re serving you. - Practice Setting Boundaries
Practising assertiveness and boundary-setting can help reduce the need to apologize as a form of relational maintenance. Remind yourself that it’s okay to say “no” or to express discomfort without apologizing for your needs. - Replace Apologies with Gratitude
In situations where you feel compelled to apologize for things like “taking up time” or “asking for help,” try expressing gratitude instead. For instance, say, “Thank you for listening” instead of “I’m sorry for venting.”
Final Thoughts
Over-apologizing can be a deeply ingrained habit, often rooted in complex emotional and relational experiences. Psychoanalysis and relational perspectives remind us that our behaviours don’t exist in isolation but are intertwined with our pasts, our anxieties, and our desires for connection. By examining these underlying dynamics, we can start to break free from the compulsion to apologize unnecessarily. Cultivating self-awareness and practising self-compassion helps us establish healthier boundaries and communicate more authentically—allowing us to connect without diminishing our own worth in the process.
As relational psychoanalyst Jessica Benjamin notes, “Recognition of the other is a recognition of the self.” When we honour our own needs without feeling the need to apologize for them, we create space for authentic, balanced relationships where mutual respect can flourish.
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The Healing Power of Psychotherapy: More Than Just Uncovering the Past
Understanding the Essence of Psychotherapy
Psychotherapy is often seen as a powerful tool for healing, yet the nature of this healing is frequently misunderstood. While many believe that our mental struggles stem from past experiences we have repressed or forgotten, the truth is that healing is a multifaceted journey. The conventional view posits that traumatic moments from our past—be it neglect, humiliation, or emotional abuse—linger in our unconscious, disrupting our lives. The therapeutic journey then resembles a detective story, where the therapist guides us in uncovering these buried traumas to find relief.
The Detective Analogy: A Limited Perspective
In this narrative, it’s commonly thought that identifying the root cause of our pain—perhaps a belittling father or a mother who struggled with depression—will lead to healing. This perspective is appealing because it suggests a straightforward solution: uncover the trauma, and we will be free from its grip. However, while this view holds some truth, it overlooks a critical aspect of psychotherapy’s benefits.
Healing goes beyond merely understanding the past; it involves experiencing a new kind of relationship with another person—one that may have been absent during our formative years. Knowledge alone is insufficient for healing; we cannot simply grasp the facts about our painful experiences and expect to feel better. True recovery occurs when we have the opportunity to redefine our emotional landscape in the presence of a therapist who embodies the qualities that our original caregivers may not have provided: presence, kindness, empathy, and understanding.
The Role of the Therapist: A Reparative Relationship
The therapist’s role is not solely to unearth painful memories; it’s also to fill the emotional void created by past traumas. Through sustained interactions characterized by warmth, patience, and generosity, clients can begin to heal from fear, loneliness, panic, and shame. This reparative experience is essential for overcoming the scars of earlier wounds.
The therapeutic relationship provides a unique opportunity to rewrite our emotional narratives. It allows clients to experience what healthy, supportive relationships look like, helping them understand their worth and fostering a sense of safety that may have been missing in their earlier experiences.
The Challenge of Authentic Connection
However, this approach complicates psychotherapy significantly. It requires a genuine and authentic connection between the client and therapist—something that is not easily achieved. If a therapist is cold, judgmental, or emotionally distant, the healing process can falter. Unlike traditional medicine, where one can dislike a doctor but still benefit from their treatment, psychotherapy relies on a profound sense of trust in the therapist’s goodness, maturity, and kindness.
This level of connection is rare and often requires multiple sessions to develop, much like the bond with a true friend. Finding a therapist who embodies these qualities is crucial; without this bond, the therapeutic process can feel ineffective or even counterproductive.
The Long-Term Commitment to Healing
Additionally, this understanding of therapy tends to make it more costly and lengthy than many might prefer. If we view therapy as a mere quest to uncover hidden trauma, we may hope for quick fixes, believing that resolution is just a few sessions away. However, if we embrace the notion that healing is a process rooted in a reparative relationship, we may need to engage in therapy consistently over a longer period—perhaps weeks, months, or even years.
This extended commitment can create challenges, particularly for those navigating busy lives or seeking to avoid the complexities of emotional healing. Insurance companies and employers often favour quicker solutions, leading to a temptation to view therapy solely as a means to discover and address trauma.
The Danger of Superficial Healing
Yet, if we allow this temptation to shape our approach, we risk settling for a superficial understanding of therapy—one that seeks immediate relief without recognizing the need for a nurturing and supportive therapeutic relationship. True healing comes from shifting our perspective from the therapist as a detective to the therapist as a reparenter.
This change in perspective is essential for fostering genuine growth. We must recognize that healing is not merely about discovering past traumas but about creating a new foundation for emotional health and well-being. By prioritizing the quality of our therapeutic relationships, we set ourselves on a path to deeper understanding and lasting change.
Conclusion: Investing in the Healing Journey
Ultimately, by investing in a therapeutic relationship that genuinely supports our emotional growth, we honour our healing journey and set the stage for profound transformation. In seeking a therapist who embodies the qualities of an ideal caregiver, we can hope to find a solution that repays our trust and investment—a path toward a more fulfilling and emotionally healthy life.
Through this understanding, we empower ourselves to embrace the complexity of healing and to recognize the vital role of relationships in our journey toward emotional wellness. The path may be longer and more intricate than we initially envisioned, but the rewards of such an investment can lead to a deeper sense of self and a richer, more connected life.
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Subversion of Women in Indian Society: A Mask of Patriarchy Hidden in Jokes
In Indian society, patriarchy is woven deeply into the fabric of family structures, social institutions, and everyday life. Men have long used subtle and overt means to subvert women’s voices and expressions, maintaining dominance in ways that are both glaring and insidious. Feminist scholars have extensively explored the ways men subordinate women, laying bare the various strategies through which patriarchy manifests in homes, workplaces, and public spaces. Their research has illuminated how men exercise control over women, often by silencing, restricting, and infantilising them. As I delved into these academic works, I gained a nuanced understanding of the pervasive nature of gender inequality.
However, what perplexes me is how different the reality feels when I visit my village or observe casual family interactions, particularly in the media and pop culture. In spaces that are far removed from the scholarly lens, the narrative often shifts to one of supposed female dominance, particularly that of wives over their husbands. Television shows, comedy skits, and even personal conversations are replete with jokes about husbands being “emasculated” or controlled by their wives. There’s an oddly prevalent theme of wives holding superiority over their husbands, a form of playful banter that suggests women wield more power within the family dynamic than men. The reality, however, couldn’t be further from the truth.
The Disconnect Between Academia and Popular Culture
The contrast between what feminist scholars reveal and what everyday jokes portray is striking. In academic discourse, women’s oppression is well-documented and analysed. Books on subversion detail how women are silenced, subjected to patriarchal norms, and deprived of autonomy. Yet, when I step outside of academia and into the living rooms of families or watch a popular family comedy, I notice a radically different narrative—one that seems to reverse these roles. There is a near-constant joke, not about male superiority, but rather about how husbands are “henpecked,” submissive, or even afraid of their wives.
This discourse of women’s dominance, particularly of wives over husbands, exists as a form of comedic relief in Indian society. There are countless jokes about the “power” of women over their husbands, presenting wives as the real decision-makers and husbands as figures who comply with their demands. It’s easy to get confused by this duality. Are men truly acknowledging the dominance of women in some spheres, or is there something more complex at play?
A Psychological and Societal Compensatory Mechanism
After reflecting deeply on this contradiction, I came to realise that these jokes about the superiority of wives are not reflections of reality but rather a compensatory mechanism deployed by men. In private, men often subvert women in various ways, asserting dominance in the domestic sphere through control over finances, decision-making, and personal freedoms. In many cases, this subversion is subtle yet powerful—women are not allowed to express themselves freely, and their choices are shaped by the men in their lives. But, when it comes to publicly acknowledging this inequality, men cleverly deflect attention by making light-hearted jokes about their supposed submission to women.
This, I believe, is a psychological tactic. By positioning themselves as the ones being dominated in public discourse—albeit through jokes—men can maintain the illusion that all is well in the patriarchal structure. The propagation of this narrative allows them to avoid the uncomfortable truth of their own subversive behaviour. By laughing off the idea of wives dominating their husbands, men soothe their own consciences. It creates a false sense of balance—”Yes, we dominate, but women dominate us too!”—thus avoiding any real reflection on the deep-seated inequities that continue to exist.
The Role of Women in This Narrative
What’s even more intriguing is that women, too, often participate in these narratives. Many women, especially wives, seem to enjoy the public recognition that they “control” their husbands, finding some sense of empowerment in these jokes. It’s not uncommon for women to laugh along or even fuel these narratives, perhaps because, in a society where their actual power is so limited, this symbolic gesture of superiority offers some small comfort. However, this sense of control is purely superficial. It distracts from the very real ways in which women are oppressed. The supposed dominance of wives over husbands in jokes does little to change the realities of patriarchal control that operates behind closed doors.
In fact, this is precisely how patriarchy protects itself. Allowing this narrative to exist maintains the façade that power dynamics between men and women are more equal than they truly are. It allows both men and women to feel that there’s nothing wrong with the structure—after all, wives seem to be in control, right? But this “control” is illusory. The societal order remains untouched, and the underlying patriarchal mechanisms continue to operate smoothly, reinforced by the very jokes that seem to subvert them.
The Subversive Power of Jokes in Indian Society
In this way, humour becomes a tool for maintaining the status quo. By constantly repeating these jokes, society creates a shared understanding that women, particularly wives, hold some level of power over their husbands. This narrative serves as a protective veil for men, masking their subversive behaviour in the domestic sphere and allowing them to evade accountability. These jokes do not threaten the patriarchal structure; instead, they reinforce it by offering a superficial counterbalance to the very real subjugation women experience.
In conclusion, the subversion of women in Indian society is a complex and multifaceted process. Men dominate, bully, and silence women in countless ways, but they smartly turn the narrative into public by claiming a kind of victimhood masked in humour. This unique form of subversion allows both individuals and the broader societal structure to avoid confronting the ugly truths of patriarchy, enabling its continued existence under the guise of balance. Women’s subordination remains deeply ingrained despite these narratives of superficial female superiority. Understanding this duality is crucial if we are to challenge the deep-rooted patriarchal norms that persist in Indian society.
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