We take pride in being like our mothers, but some legacies need letting go

India Today

a day ago

On one really tiring Sunday, past midnight, when I should've been in bed, I found myself in the kitchen, wrapping up after the guests had left. It was a Sunday evening, yet I couldn't bring myself to refuse visiting relatives. And despite my husband's insistence, I refused to order dinner from outside. I slogged through it, wasted my Sunday, and there I was, still in the kitchen, feeling obnoxiously drained, already dreading the start of another week.advertisementI didn't think much of it until I came across a post by an acquaintance on Mother's Day that read: 'I am a lot like my mother, but I'm not proud of it.' It was a simple post, yet it struck a chord. She talked about how certain behaviours were ingrained in her by her mother, things she now knows she doesn't want to pass on to her own children. She wrote, 'It's not that she was bad or that we were deprived in any way. But it was her conditioning that I couldn't, or rather, trying hard to unlearn.'That post stayed with me. It made me reflect on my own conditioning, as a child, as a woman. Everything I've learned, from kitchen chores to balancing home and work, has my mother's influence woven through it. Including the automatic, almost compulsive instinct to serve home-cooked food whenever guests arrive.
Is it also possible that behind that resilience was a woman who was tired, angry, lonely, but too dignified to say it out loud? (Photo: Generative AI)
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The writer wasn't vilifying her mother. She was simply questioning the legacy, the conditioning. And it made me wonder: how many of us are doing the exact same thing? Passing on the same quiet sacrifices with a ribbon of duty and love wrapped around them.'Many women grew up watching their mothers equate sacrifice with strength,' says Dr Chandni Tugnait, psychotherapist and founder of Gateway of Healing. 'They watched them hold families together, suppress emotions, stretch themselves thin, and somewhere, they absorbed the idea that this is what it means to be a good woman.'We often celebrate this as resilience. And to be fair, it is. But is it also possible that behind that resilience was a woman who was tired, angry, lonely, but too dignified to say it out loud?Absy Sam, a counselling psychologist based in Mumbai, opens up about this tug-of-war with honesty. 'My mother was a superwoman, a medical officer, a community teacher, a mother who did it all. But in doing it all, she lost bits of herself. I saw her take care of everyone's health but never really prioritise her own. That's one legacy I'm consciously breaking. I do not want to be a mom who has it all. I want to be a mom who is whole.'advertisementDr Tugnait calls it the myth of the 'one perfect role.'
Sridevi in a still from English Vinglish. (Photo: IMDb)
'Women were expected to be caregivers, peacemakers, and perfectionists. But life doesn't need one mask; it needs authenticity. It needs women to know they're allowed to be soft and assertive. Nurturing and angry. Devoted and ambitious.'The hardest part? The guilt.For most of us, stepping away from how our mothers conditioned us to be could feel like betrayal, even if it is for our survival. We struggle to separate gratitude from obligation. As Dr Chandni puts it, 'Gratitude says, 'I see you, I thank you, and now I'll walk my own way.' Obligation whispers, 'You owe her your choices.' But when we confuse the two, we end up living a life we didn't choose, out of love, yes, but also out of fear.'Anusree Sen, 58, is a Kolkata-based teacher born in the mid-60s as the fifth daughter in a traditional Indian family. She recalls how her own mother, despite being modern and educated, still couldn't support her fully when it came to big life decisions.advertisement'I was selected for a job in Delhi after a diploma from NIIT, a big deal back in 1990, but I was married off instead. Later, when I had a chance to work night shifts in a corporate job, I was asked to let it go for the sake of the family.' And yet, she adds, her mother's views evolved over time. 'As she saw how the world was changing, she encouraged us to let our daughters fly. Today, mine is pursuing a PhD in Sonipat, and I'm proud she has that freedom, and I also take pride in the fact that I let go of certain conditioning.'For Absy, the journey hasn't been about rejecting her mother, it's been about reclaiming what feels right. 'My mom taught me communication, consent, empathy; these are gifts I cherish and pass on to my daughter. But I'm also learning to say no, to rest, to not please everyone. I want my daughter to see that strength doesn't come from silence. It comes from boundaries.'advertisementThere's beauty in recognising both, what to hold on to, and what to let go of.Now, what many might wonder is: what about the men, the sons of the household? Shouldn't they also reflect on the legacies passed down by their mothers?The answer lies in recognising that simply watching their mothers endure everything, and assuming that's how it should be — is where the problem begins.There's a telling scene in the underrated film Akaash Vani (directed by Luv Ranjan), where Sunny Singh's character, Ravi, expects his wife to serve him dinner and do the 'needful' after he returns from work, even when she tells him she's in excruciating menstrual pain. His response? 'Humne apni maa ko toh kabhi kehte nahi suna ki woh down hain, isliye khaana khud lena padega.' (We never heard our mother say she was 'down,' so we had to get our own food.)
A still from Akaash Vani. (Photo: YouTube)
And that's exactly what men can unlearn. They should make sure, just because their mothers went through it, the story doesn't have to be repeated for their wives or daughters.And perhaps maybe, just maybe, one day our daughters and sons will say, 'I'm a lot like my mother. And I'm proud, not because she did it all, but because she chose what mattered. And she chose herself too.'- EndsMust Watch