Setting Boundaries in an Indian Family: How I Navigated Cultural Guilt and Chose Self-Preservation

Growing up in an Indian household meant being taught that respect for elders was non-negotiable. We weren’t allowed to talk back, question authority, or voice a differing opinion. Obedience wasn’t just expected—it was revered. That’s the culture I was raised in, and I followed it faithfully, believing that voicing my thoughts was equal to being disrespectful.

But what I was too young to understand was this: in return for that unwavering respect, children deserve a loving, safe, and emotionally secure environment. Sadly, that was never my reality.

What Loyalty Meant to Me Growing Up

As a child, I was quiet and compliant—not out of nature, but out of necessity. I didn’t speak up, didn’t question anything, and didn’t share my opinions. I did what was expected of me because that’s what “good kids” did. But deep down, I was a creative, expressive child with a vivid imagination.

I loved to make things, to read, to dream. I used to design rooms using old catalogs, cut up magazines to create layouts, and paint on anything I could find—including Styrofoam ceiling tiles. But these weren’t seen as valid interests. My parents valued more “traditional” academic pursuits like science, math, and nonfiction reading. So I hid my passions. My scrapbooks were stashed in drawers; my magazines lived under the bed. I did everything in secret, in the solitude of my room, because my creativity was never acknowledged or encouraged.

I didn’t feel connected to my parents. My mother didn’t have conversations with me—she gave orders. My father only talked about money, warning me not to waste it on “useless” things. And as more adults moved into our home after my brother got married, the pressure to respect everyone—without receiving that same respect in return—only grew.

Both my sisters-in-law disliked me. I adored them initially, eager to play the part of the “good girl” everyone expected. But in time, I realized I would never receive the love or appreciation I craved. So I made peace with being invisible.

When Boundaries Become a Necessity

By the time I became a teenager, the value of respecting elders was deeply ingrained in me. In some ways, this shaped me into a person my in-laws adore today—they admire my values, and for the right people, that respect is a blessing. But for my own family, it was something they took advantage of.

I endured years of emotional manipulation and bullying in silence. I married a wonderful man—someone who would have fought the world for me—but even he stayed quiet out of respect for my wishes. Life might have continued like that indefinitely, until everything collapsed in 2013.

In just four months, I discovered I was pregnant—and on the same day, I found out my father had passed away. Shortly after, a close colleague of mine also died. I wasn’t able to attend the funeral due to the pregnancy, and then, devastatingly, I miscarried. The miscarriage required surgery because my body wouldn’t reject the pregnancy naturally. While I was still grieving, my sisters-in-law pressured me to sell the family home that I legally co-owned with my parents—and to share the proceeds with them.

Even then, I was still trying to be respectful. I agreed to sell the house but requested a private conversation with just my mother and brothers—no spouses, no in-laws, not even my husband. I wanted to talk to my family. That’s when one of my sisters-in-law took the phone and began berating me.

That was the moment I broke.

I told her to shut up and hung up the phone. I was done. I told my husband we needed a lawyer. Within a week, we had one. I informed everyone I was no longer interested in selling the house, and if they wanted to fight, they could take me to court.

Standing Up for Myself—and Winning

My family was shocked. After a lifetime of submission, they never expected me to stand up for myself. They tried everything—calls from my sister, my brother-in-law, even from the sister-in-law I hadn’t spoken to in years. I ignored them all and sent legal notices to stop the harassment.

What followed was a nine-year legal battle. It wasn’t easy. There were times when my husband Nitin and I struggled financially, especially as our daughters, Maanvi and Jiya, were born during that period. But I don’t regret a thing.

It remains one of the proudest moments of my life. I finally chose me.

Where Culture and Boundaries Can Coexist

Today, I’m a mother raising two confident, joyful little girls. Yes, I teach them to respect their elders—just as I was taught. But the difference is: they also have a voice.

They’re allowed to speak their minds, to question things, to express themselves freely. Our home is filled with laughter, with open conversations, with gifts on special occasions, and above all, with love. Respect in our home is mutual. I respect their personalities and opinions, and they respect me and their dad in return.

This is what I believe our culture should evolve into: a beautiful blend of tradition and emotional intelligence. A place where obedience doesn’t require silence, and where loyalty isn’t a burden, but a choice rooted in love.