The immediate trigger to write this comes from a phone call that I had with my mother the other day. She is in her early 60s and has been sick for the past week, and the minute she gets any better, she decides to deep clean the house and cook for the family and guests! Needless to say, she becomes ill again.
I have seen her work tirelessly for us all my life. The image of her walking towards the house after a long day at school (she worked as a government school teacher) is still vivid in my mind. A tired saree-clad woman with an unwavering smile, carrying a cover containing the answer sheets to be valued on one hand and a cover full of fresh white sardines on the other.
She used to sit on a small stool in the backyard, legs crossed, with a clay pot full of tiny fishes. It must have been painstaking to clean them after a long day at work. But she did it anyway, for us, for love. I used to ask her to fry the fish till they turned crisp so that I could devour them like chips. I am so full of guilt and shame right now that I let my mother work so hard. I could have eaten my rice and veggies without the crunchy fish fries, but I simply didn’t. Forgive me Ma.
Perfection and People-pleasing
I grew up without learning much of the basic cooking skills. I used to tell my parents, “Let me be free now, I’ll have to cook once I get married anyway!” And how true that turned out to be! It was only after my marriage that I realized the true worth of all that my mother did for us. The simple ‘Rasam’ was not that simple to make, nor was the ‘Sambhar’, fish curry, or my favorite fish fries.
During my one-year stay at my in-laws’ place after our marriage, I helped my mother-in-law with the household chores as much as I could. I learned to cook and clean. I did the dishes at the end of the day. I often refused help from my husband who wanted to do the chores. Because I was dead set on becoming the “perfect” daughter-in-law and wife who could handle household chores like a pro and still keep the smile on her face intact.
Deconstructing the Perfect Woman Conundrum
It took me only another year to realize that I can’t be perfect in every regard. I can’t please anyone if I don’t stay true to myself. Eventually, the people-pleaser in me died a slow and silent death. I refuse to cook a three-course meal every single day. I no longer care about what others might think when I leave my husband alone for a week or two to visit my favorite city. And I am going to ask for help when I need it. And no, I won’t clean or cook until I have fully recovered from an illness. Phew.
Dear reader, don’t take the bait of any society or culture that glorifies its women as perfect creatures. Dear fellow woman, do yourself a favor and do not try to emulate a goddess who can do no wrong and who puts the happiness and well-being of others while ignoring her own health and happiness.
Look after yourself, learn to say no, and remember to put your feet up, and rest.
And most of all, learn to put yourself first.


