Between Old Habits and New Expectations: The Stuckness of the ‘Good’ Indian Man Vol. 12 — WordsByEkta🌿
Between Old Habits and New Expectations: The Stuckness of the 'Good' Indian Man
The men I know are not villains. They don't bark orders or slam fists. They change diapers. They do school runs. They remember anniversaries — most of the time. They tell their wives to take rest, even insist on it. They do not demand chapatis puffed to perfection or fresh pickle with every meal. They talk about patriarchy, about feminism, about the need to "share the load."
And yet, many of them are tired of being told they're not doing enough.
They'll say, "I do more than my father ever did."
They'll say, "My friends aren't even doing half of what I'm doing."
They'll say, "Why is it never enough?"
And I understand that frustration. These men, born in the 80s or 90s, grew up watching fathers who rarely lifted a finger at home. Fathers who saw parenting as financial provision and left everything else to the women. Emotional labor? Domestic duties? That was simply "women's work."
These newer men saw that, felt the tension it created in their households, and consciously tried to do better. Many of them are trying. But here's the catch: when you grow up in patriarchy and try to undo it as an adult, even basic decency can feel like heroism.
And that's where the stuckness begins.
When Doing the Bare Minimum Feels Like a Revolution
I've heard men say, "I let her sleep in on weekends," as though it were a grand romantic gesture. Or "I don't interfere with her career." Or "I don't expect her to serve me food."
The phrasing gives it away: there's still an element of permission-giving. A sense that they're being progressive by not imposing something outdated. But when neutrality is positioned as nobility, it reveals how low the baseline has been set.
Of course, it's not entirely their fault. These are men raised in households where emotional availability wasn't modeled, where care work was invisible, where affection was sparse and sacrifice was the norm. For them, emotional labor is unfamiliar terrain. Being told they're still falling short — despite being better than their fathers — feels unfair.
But progress is not a comparison contest. You don't get full credit for doing better than a previous generation whose standards were abysmal.
You get credit for what you choose to build — with your partner, your children, your inner world. Not just for what you choose to avoid.
Between Guilt and Growth: The Emotional Whiplash
What complicates this dynamic is how fragile this progress often is.
Many of these men carry a double burden: guilt for the ways they fall short, and defensiveness when called out. They want to change, but feel underacknowledged. They want to be seen as "good," but the goalposts seem to keep shifting.
I've seen gentle men lash out after a single accusation of selfishness. I've seen them spiral into withdrawal when told they didn't listen deeply enough. I've seen them offer logistical help but resist emotional accountability. And I've seen women — exhausted, emotionally threadbare — forced to walk on eggshells just to ask for what they need.
Somewhere in their need to be reassured that they're good men, the actual work of becoming better gets paused.
The Myth of the One-Time Fix
Part of the problem is the belief that this evolution is a project — with a start date, milestones, and eventual completion. "Tell me what I'm doing wrong and I'll fix it" is a common refrain.
But unlearning patriarchy is not a checklist. It's a continuous, often uncomfortable journey of re-examination. It's noticing when your silence becomes complicity. When your helpfulness is still laced with control. When your partner is not thriving but coping.
It's realizing that being a "good guy" isn't the same as being an equal partner.
The women you love are not measuring your goodness by how you compare to your father or your colleagues. They're measuring it by how safe, seen, and supported they feel beside you — without having to shrink or stretch themselves beyond capacity.
What Might Growth Look Like?
Real growth might look like:
- Asking how your partner's day was — and really listening, without interruption or solving.
- Noticing the mental load she's carrying, not just the chores.
- Accepting feedback without spiraling into shame or sulking.
- Offering care without being praised.
- Holding space for her rest, not because she's "earned it," but because she's human.
- Examining your own stories — the ones you tell yourself about masculinity, sacrifice, control, usefulness. The ones that keep you tethered to outdated scripts even when your politics have evolved.
Most importantly, growth involves holding the discomfort of two truths:
Truth 02: And it's still not enough.
A Note to the Men in the Middle
If you're a man reading this and feeling seen, possibly a little stung — this isn't a callout. It's an invitation. You are not the enemy. But you are — as we all are — shaped by a world that has prioritized male comfort over mutual liberation for too long.
You're not expected to be perfect. You are expected to stay curious, humble, and open.
Being "better than the last generation" is a low bar. Being accountable to this one — that's where the real work lies.
✍️ Written by WordsByEkta🌿
🖋️ Emotional Storyteller | Writing what hearts never say aloud
💌 If you connected with my way of saying hard truths — often overlooked but deeply felt — explore one of my free letters:
wordsbyekta.gumroad.com
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