u/development_era

My mom has three children: two daughters and one son. Recently, my brother and I were casually joking that since his exams didn’t go too well, maybe he should just marry a rich family friend and move in with her parents.

My mom immediately said, “How can I send my son away to someone else’s house? I only have one son.” (“Ek hi toh beta hai mera.”)

What hurt me is that she never reacted this way when my sister and I got married and left home. There was never any sadness or resistance about us leaving. But the idea of her son moving away was suddenly unacceptable.

That comment genuinely stung. It made me wonder if she subconsciously sees her daughters as “less her children” than her son. We used to be extremely close and talked every day, but after that conversation, I just haven’t felt the same. I’ve reduced our calls to once a week, pretending I’m busy because I don’t know how to explain why I’m hurt.

Am I overreacting for being this affected by one comment?

My mom has three children: two daughters and one son. Recently, my brother, my mom, and I were casually joking that since his exams didn’t go too well, maybe he should just marry a rich family friend and move in with her parents.

My mom immediately said, “How can I send my son away to someone else’s house? I only have one son.” (“Ek hi toh beta hai mera.”)

What hurt me is that she never reacted this way when my sister and I got married and left home. There was never any sadness or resistance about us leaving. But the idea of her son moving away was suddenly unacceptable.

That comment genuinely stung. It made me wonder if she subconsciously sees her daughters as “less her children” than her son. We used to be extremely close and talked every day, but after that conversation, I just haven’t felt the same. I’ve reduced our calls to once a week, pretending I’m busy because I don’t know how to explain why I’m hurt.

Am I overreacting for being this affected by one comment?

I was the second child. The first one was a daughter too. Everyone desperately wanted me to be a boy. Family did all kinds of silly rituals during my mother’s pregnancy to ensure a son this time.

Unfortunately for them, I was born without the prized peepee.

My birth was delivered almost like bad news to everyone.

To be fair, my parents loved me a lot and never discriminated between us while raising us. (They stopped having children after the third one was born with a peepee) . In fact, I often felt the most loved out of the three children. Though yes, traces of patriarchal conditioning would occasionally show up, especially after my marriage, and I’ve fought them on it enough over the years.

But growing up, I constantly heard from relatives, neighbours, family friends, school teachers, tuition teachers, everyone that sons are what complete a family. Sons carry the legacy. Sons are the “real” family. Daughters are temporary guests. A burden. Someone else’s responsibility.

Boys were allowed to make mistakes because “boys will be boys.”
Girls making mistakes was treated like a threat to the dignity of the entire bloodline.

And honestly, this isn’t even my personal trauma story. This is just the average Indian daughter experience.

I think somewhere along the way, I internalised the idea that my existence needed justification. That I had to prove I was just as valuable as a son.

And the easiest way to gain respect in our society seemed to be money.

I noticed people didn’t just love sons emotionally, they loved what sons represented financially. Security. Retirement plans. Status. Authority. Which is honestly sad for the sons but atleast they got “love” and preferential treatment.

So I became obsessed with earning.

Today, I’m happily married. I’ve earned enough that technically I could retire right now if I lived a simple life. I have a high-paying tech job, a freelance income that earns 60–70% of my salary, and I’m trying to build a business too.

Ironically, the business is the only thing I genuinely enjoy. The rest feels like survival. Like proof.

Now I want children. I want to be a mother.

And when I imagine motherhood, I don’t imagine “balancing it all.” I imagine being fully present. I want to cook for my kids with love. I want long conversations after school. I want to know what’s happening in their tiny little minds and lives. I want them to feel emotionally safe with me. I want them to find home in me. I want to be fully present for them.

And yet, I cannot bring myself to let go of work.

Not because I need the money. Not because my husband would ever control me financially , he’s loving and supportive.

But because somewhere deep down, my worth is still tied to earning.
To productivity.
To proving that I am not “less than a son.”

And that fear is so strong that I keep postponing motherhood despite knowing biology is not infinitely patient.

I feel torn between becoming the kind of mother I want to be and becoming the kind of woman society taught me to admire.

And before someone says “just do both” , I know myself and my careers.
For me, trying to fully pursue an intense career while raising children would either mean outsourcing motherhood or being mediocre at both.

Maybe some women can genuinely do both beautifully. I just don’t think I can.

And honestly, it breaks my heart that even after earning enough, even after building a life for myself, I still cannot fully escape the feeling that my value as a daughter must continue to be financially proven forever. How to cope? How was your experience as a second born daughter?

After years of having periods, I started noticing a pattern in myself, something my family never really talked about growing up.

Week 1 (my period): I’m okay. Some pain, some discomfort, but manageable.

Week 2 & 3: I feel like myself. I am Confident, happy, even a little pretty. Life feels lighter.

Week 4: Everything crashes. I feel low, irritated, overly emotional. I am barely functional. The smallest tasks feel overwhelming. Minor inconveniences feel like failures. I cry easily, I overeat trying to feel better, and there’s this constant heaviness I can’t shake off. Most days, I’m just waiting for the night so I can sleep and get a break from living.

Sometimes it makes me wonder Am I only okay for half of my life? Am I just at the mercy of my hormones?

Do you go through this too? How do you deal with it?

Questionable things to do if you have patriarchal in laws from hell but u still have to meet them occasionally

1. Tell your husband to tell his parents and family that all the gifts that you, as a couple, get for the family are mostly paid for by you because hubby has some financial constraints due to a bad investment. This may teach the value of your work to their patriarchal minds. Specially if they have expressed that u quit ur job.

2. Strategic incompetence: If you’re forced to do any task, do it with a smile, almost as if you’re enthusiastic about it but do it so poorly that no one wants you to touch anything else.

3. If anyone says anything mean or nasty, keep asking them to explain themselves with nested “why” questions or “what does that mean?” as if you don’t understand anything. Watch them fumble.

4. UNO reverse: Be more patriarchal than them and enforce patriarchal ideas on MIL that she won’t like, in the name of sanskaar. For example, “auraton ko aise bade bade decisions nahi lene chahiye, papa ji ko bolne do.” If she’s a control freak, this may not sit right with her. But sanskar is sanskar.

5. Praise your MIL profusely in front of all the guests about what a great, supportive MIL she is and how modern she is, and that’s the kind of MIL every DIL needs in this day and age and you’re so lucky to have her. Best case scenario: she’ll feel trapped to act this way. Worst case: she’ll be hella confused and slightly intimidated.

6. Never react badly to any taunts or jabs. Instead, smile sweetly or laugh and say, “Gosh, you’re funny, always a delight to hang out with,” or “you’re the sweetest lol,” or anything that catches them off guard and then just walk away to go drink water.

7. Act insane and say you’re on medication that makes you feel euphoric or drunk, like benzodiazepines or opioid painkillers, and then behave like a menace and blame it on the medicines.

Instead of feeling down and sad, just have some fun. Life is much better this way. Just add a bit of whimsy and psychopathy 💖