You’re Not “Helping.” You Just Exist. Congratulations.

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Let’s just say it:
If you're a grown man who still thinks that cooking, cleaning, doing laundry, or even picking up groceries is “women’s work,” I don’t even have the words — wait, actually I do: you’re a full-grown, walking disappointment.

I don’t care if you're a CEO or a cab driver — if you live in a house, eat food, wear clothes, and shit in a toilet, then you are responsible for maintaining that house. Period.

What exactly do you think women are? Personal assistants with breasts?
"Oh, but I earn." Great. So does she.


And even if she doesn’t, being a stay-at-home mom or homemaker isn’t some chill yoga retreat. It’s unpaid, nonstop labour, 7 days a week, no holidays, no sick leave — and the boss (that’s YOU) barely lifts a damn finger.

And don’t even get me started on the “I do help!” tribe.
Help? You live here too, bro. You’re not “helping,” you’re just finally doing the bare minimum after months of ignoring the pile of dishes like it's invisible.

You want applause for taking the garbage out once a month?
Sweetheart, toddlers get gold stars for picking up toys. You? You get side-eye and quiet resentment.

And this logic of “My mom used to do everything and she never complained” —
Yeah, and your mom also didn’t have a choice. She was trained to suffer quietly. You’re not defending tradition, you’re defending laziness dressed in nostalgia.

Also — and I cannot stress this enough — she’s tired.

Every woman out there doing everything — the cooking, the cleaning, the kids, the groceries, the in-laws, the office — and then having to deal with a man-child who thinks loading the washing machine once is enough to deserve sainthood?

She’s not just tired. She’s done.
And one day, she might just stop reminding you to step up. She’ll stop waiting. She’ll stop explaining.
And by the time you realize what a massive emotional load she was carrying, you’ll be left sitting there wondering why no one’s laughing at your WhatsApp forwards anymore.


So here’s an idea — pick up a damn broom.
Not because she nagged you. Not for praise. But because you live here. You eat here. You wear clean underwear because she washed it.

You think you’re the man of the house?
Start acting like one.
And no — sitting on the couch while scrolling reels doesn’t count as leadership.




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