You know that feeling when you’re exhausted but can’t quite point to why? You didn’t run a marathon, you didn’t carry furniture — and yet you’re drained. Your brain is on fire, and your patience is on zero.
That’s a mental load on women.
And I’ve seen it up close my entire life.
Every time we host a dinner, a puja, or a big family gathering, it’s my mother or my mother-in-law who steps up. They’re the ones who quietly start thinking ahead: What will be cooked? Do we have enough oil? Is the crockery clean? Will someone need chai? Should we get snacks from outside?
All the other women — including me — jump in to support them. But the planning? That’s already been done in their heads days before anyone moves.
The men, meanwhile — again, with love — mostly sit around, chat, or ask the house help to bring them things. They’re not expected to plan. They’re not expected to think.
And this isn’t about blaming anyone. These are kind, generous men. But they haven’t been taught to carry the invisible weight — the thinking, the remembering, the anticipating. That weight almost always falls on the women.
Even in our own home — where, thankfully, we have help — I still felt it.
Because privilege softens the work, but it doesn’t erase the mental work of managing that work.
And one day, I just reached my limit.
I told my husband. Not in an outburst. Just honestly. “I feel like I’m holding a hundred tabs open in my head, and I can’t close any of them.”
He didn’t brush it off. He didn’t say, “But I help you.”
He listened.
And that one conversation changed so much.
Now, when something is coming up, he sits down with me. We make the to-do list together. He checks what needs to be bought. He does the shopping. He handles the kids if I need space. He remembers things.
He doesn’t “help” me.
He shares the responsibility.
And for the first time in a long time, I felt like I could exhale.
The mental load is the invisible labour — the constant planning, organising, scheduling, and worrying — that keeps everything at home running smoothly.
And it almost always goes unnoticed. That’s what makes it so exhausting.
It’s:
Thinking of what to cook before it’s time to cook.
Remember your child’s project deadline, your in-laws’ meds, the leaking tap, and your friend’s birthday gift — all at once.
Having to not just do things but think about them constantly and make sure they happen.
The worst part?
Even when men want to help, the planning part — the thinking — still falls on the woman.
And when that goes on for too long, it’s not just frustrating. It’s draining.
It leads to:
Burnout
Resentment in relationships
Anxiety, sleep issues, even health problems
So, how do we begin to change that?
Let me be real — the mental load won’t magically vanish. But over time, you can make it lighter. Here’s what really helped me (and might help you, too):
This was the hardest part — bringing it up. Because how do you explain something that doesn’t show up on a chore chart?
But I did. I told my husband that even when he helped, I was still the one remembering, reminding, and managing it all in my head.
That talk changed everything. He didn’t take over — we started sharing the load, not just the tasks.
Don’t try to carry the mental load in your head alone. You’ll burn out.
I started keeping a running list — groceries, birthdays, school forms, upcoming family stuff. I even made a weekly board for all of us to see.
It’s not about being “organised.” It’s about unloading your brain.
This one took time. I used to micromanage—if I didn’t do it, it wouldn’t be “right.” But done is better than perfect. And if someone else forgets a detail, that’s okay.
Let others learn by doing. Step back. Breathe.
Both my sons organise and pack their schoolbags themselves, pack their suitcase for trips, arrange the school uniform, and organise their wardrobes.
They’re little things, but they matter.
It’s not about “making them grow up fast.” It’s about not letting them believe that only mom is responsible for everything.
You don’t need to explain why you can’t join the kitty party, why you’re not volunteering for school bake day, or why you ordered in dinner. You’re allowed to say no.
Protect your peace. You don’t owe anyone a performance.
Not time for chores. Not time for productivity. Just your time.
For silence. Music. Journaling. Sitting under the fan and doing nothing.
Because rest is not a reward.
It’s a basic need.
The mental load doesn’t look like much from the outside. But it’s the reason so many women are always on edge, always tired, always juggling.
I’m still learning. Some days, I fall into old habits and try to carry it all over again. But I’m learning to speak, share, and, most importantly, let go.
If you’re carrying it all right now — I see you.
You’re not imagining it. You’re not weak.
You’re just carrying too much of what should’ve always been shared.
Let’s talk more about it — whenever you’re ready.
You can reach me here.
