Joint Families Are Ruining Indian Marriages

Imagine waiting the whole day just to get home and be with your partner. Now imagine getting home—and still waiting. Because in a typical Indian joint family, loving your partner openly is apparently a sin. Privacy? LOL. Permission? Mandatory. And the idea of a couple actually being a couple? Offensive. You're married, but somehow everyone except you gets a say in how that marriage functions. Cute, no? If you've ever lived in a joint family post-marriage, you already know: it’s not the marriage that’s exhausting. It’s the circus around it.


You signed the papers. You did the rituals. You entered the house as a married person. And yet, you still wait for everyone to sleep so you can hold your partner’s hand in peace. You share a bed, but never a moment. You smile at the dinner table like you’re just roommates. You hide your affection like it’s a mistake. This isn’t marriage. This is performance. You’re married on paper, but single in practice.


You want to buy a bedsheet? There’s a discussion. Want to step out for a weekend movie? Prepare for a “why can't we all go?” You’re not allowed to make choices. You’re expected to consult—and more often than not, comply. The relationship becomes a joint venture. But not with your partner—with the entire family. And they will sit in every corner of it. Uninvited.


This is the wildest contradiction of all. Physical affection? Immature. Kissing your husband? Shameful. Sitting too close? “Arrey, control yourselves.” But when are you giving us a baby? Any plans? So, you're not allowed to touch—but you're expected to reproduce. The very thing that requires intimacy is what you’re asked for most. But showing love? That’s the scandal. It’s not just hypocrisy. It’s emotional gaslighting.


Arguments aren’t between two people anymore. They’re a full-blown family matter. You raise a concern, and suddenly bua ji is giving life lessons. Your tone was wrong. You should have been quieter. More polite. More patient. Basically: more invisible. And your husband? He often watches. Sometimes agrees. Mostly… avoids. Because keeping peace with the family means sacrificing yours. And somehow, the woman always ends up being “too sensitive.”


This is the part that burns. No house help, because “we manage everything ourselves.” But by “we,” they mean you. You’re expected to wake early, cook for 6, serve 5, clean 4 rooms, do laundry by hand (because machines are too modern?), smile through it, and thank them for “accepting” you. They want a daughter-in-law, not a woman with a voice. They want a caretaker, not a partner. And when you speak up? “She’s changed him.” Yes. She tried giving him a spine.

Joint families were supposed to be about support, shared love, and togetherness. But somewhere along the way, they became control centers—micromanaging couples, killing romance, and calling it “tradition.” If I have to ask permission to live my married life, what’s the point of being married? Why is a woman expected to “adjust” in a marriage while others just…exist? So yeah. Joint families might have their moments. But in most modern Indian marriages, they’re less about love multiplied—and more about boundaries destroyed.