The Myth of the ‘Perfect Bahu’: Why Indian Daughters-in-Law Are Set Up to Fail
Riya Kumari | Feb 20, 2025, 23:59 IST
( Image credit : Pexels )
So, picture this: You’re a fresh-faced, well-educated, emotionally stable (okay, relatively stable) woman, ready to embark on married life. You’ve aced interviews, handled your own taxes, and even mastered the fine art of ordering a complicated coffee without panicking. You’re feeling pretty accomplished. But then, the moment you step into your in-laws’ house, congratulations! You’ve just been signed up for an unpaid, full-time, high-stakes reality show called So You Think You Can Be a Perfect Bahu?—where the only prize is… well, nothing.
Let’s get something out of the way—this isn’t a rant. It’s not an exposé, a battle cry, or a rebellious Dear Society, I Quit manifesto. It’s just an observation, the kind that settles deep in your bones when you’ve seen enough, lived enough, and finally understand the unspoken rules of a game you never signed up for. Because that’s what being a daughter-in-law in India often feels like—a game. A high-stakes, no-win situation where the rules aren’t written down but are somehow always held against you.
Here’s the thing: a daughter-in-law isn’t a person. She’s a concept. A sum of contradictory expectations designed to ensure that she’s never quite enough. If she’s ambitious, she’s too career-focused. If she’s family-oriented, she lacks drive. If she listens, she’s weak. If she speaks up, she’s disrespectful.
It’s not that society wants her to fail. It’s that her failure is built into the system. The moment she steps into her in-laws’ home, she’s expected to prove herself—to earn her place, to justify her presence, to constantly audition for the role of "ideal wife, daughter-in-law, and mother" in a play that never ends. And the most tragic part? She often doesn’t realize this until years later, when she’s exhausted from trying, drained from pleasing, and quietly wondering if she ever truly belonged.
Somewhere along the way, love and obligation got tangled up in the most dangerous way possible. A good bahu is supposed to love her new family unconditionally, to treat them as her own. But here’s the question no one asks—why is this love always proved through sacrifice?
Why does love, for a daughter-in-law, mean never prioritizing herself? Why does it mean silence in the face of unfairness, patience in the face of exhaustion, and gratitude even when she’s denied the basic kindnesses freely given to others? And if she dares to ask for these things—to be treated like a person, not a role—why is she made to feel guilty?
The worst trick patriarchy ever pulled was convincing women that endurance is a virtue. That suffering with grace is a mark of strength. That every story of a self-sacrificing woman is something to aspire to.
Mothers tell their daughters, Adjust karna seekho. They don’t mean harm. They say it because no one ever asked them what they wanted. They say it because, by the time they realized the weight of their own sacrifices, it was too late. And so, the cycle continues—not because women believe it’s right, but because they’ve been taught there is no alternative. But what if there is?
This is the part that gives me hope. Women today are quietly, subtly, rewriting the script. Not in loud, dramatic ways—but in everyday choices. They are setting boundaries without apology. They are refusing to be shamed for wanting a life beyond the kitchen, beyond the family, beyond what is expected. They are choosing partners who don’t see marriage as an uneven trade. They are raising sons who won’t repeat the mistakes of their fathers.
Most importantly, they are allowing themselves to want more. And that, more than anything, is what will change everything. Because the perfect bahu never existed. But the free woman—the woman who lives on her own terms? She is real. And she’s not asking for permission anymore.
1. The Great Expectation Trap
Bride
( Image credit : Pexels )
Here’s the thing: a daughter-in-law isn’t a person. She’s a concept. A sum of contradictory expectations designed to ensure that she’s never quite enough. If she’s ambitious, she’s too career-focused. If she’s family-oriented, she lacks drive. If she listens, she’s weak. If she speaks up, she’s disrespectful.
It’s not that society wants her to fail. It’s that her failure is built into the system. The moment she steps into her in-laws’ home, she’s expected to prove herself—to earn her place, to justify her presence, to constantly audition for the role of "ideal wife, daughter-in-law, and mother" in a play that never ends. And the most tragic part? She often doesn’t realize this until years later, when she’s exhausted from trying, drained from pleasing, and quietly wondering if she ever truly belonged.
2. The Unpaid, Invisible Labor of Love
Cook
( Image credit : Pexels )
Somewhere along the way, love and obligation got tangled up in the most dangerous way possible. A good bahu is supposed to love her new family unconditionally, to treat them as her own. But here’s the question no one asks—why is this love always proved through sacrifice?
Why does love, for a daughter-in-law, mean never prioritizing herself? Why does it mean silence in the face of unfairness, patience in the face of exhaustion, and gratitude even when she’s denied the basic kindnesses freely given to others? And if she dares to ask for these things—to be treated like a person, not a role—why is she made to feel guilty?
3. The Weight of a One-Sided Legacy
Clean
( Image credit : Pexels )
The worst trick patriarchy ever pulled was convincing women that endurance is a virtue. That suffering with grace is a mark of strength. That every story of a self-sacrificing woman is something to aspire to.
Mothers tell their daughters, Adjust karna seekho. They don’t mean harm. They say it because no one ever asked them what they wanted. They say it because, by the time they realized the weight of their own sacrifices, it was too late. And so, the cycle continues—not because women believe it’s right, but because they’ve been taught there is no alternative. But what if there is?
4. The Silent, Unnoticed Rebellion
Working woman
( Image credit : Pexels )
This is the part that gives me hope. Women today are quietly, subtly, rewriting the script. Not in loud, dramatic ways—but in everyday choices. They are setting boundaries without apology. They are refusing to be shamed for wanting a life beyond the kitchen, beyond the family, beyond what is expected. They are choosing partners who don’t see marriage as an uneven trade. They are raising sons who won’t repeat the mistakes of their fathers.
Most importantly, they are allowing themselves to want more. And that, more than anything, is what will change everything. Because the perfect bahu never existed. But the free woman—the woman who lives on her own terms? She is real. And she’s not asking for permission anymore.