10 Ways Patriarchy Shows Up in Your Love Life

You don’t need a man to be abusive for patriarchy to thrive in your relationship. Sometimes, it shows up in soft ways; when you swallow your needs, when you shrink your ambition, when you romanticise pain. This is how patriarchy survives: not just in politics and policies, but in your pillow talk, in your waiting, in your longing.

1. You equate love with sacrifice.

You believe that love is about giving, even when it costs your peace, your voice, your dreams. You stay. You bend. You break. You call it devotion, but it’s depletion.

This isn’t love. It’s internalised patriarchy telling you that your worth is measured by how much you endure.

Example: You cancel your plans, silence your opinions, or accept his outbursts, just to keep the relationship intact. You tell yourself, “This is what being a good partner means.”

Ask yourself:

  • Where did I learn that love means self-abandonment?
  • What would love look like if it didn’t require me to shrink?

2. You feel guilty for having needs.

You’ve been taught that needing too much; affection, reassurance, presence, makes you clingy, dramatic, too much. So you suppress your needs to seem “cool” or “low-maintenance.”

But this isn’t emotional maturity, it’s internalised patriarchy shaming your natural desire for connection.

Example: You hesitate to ask for more communication, more quality time, or more clarity, afraid he’ll pull away or label you needy. So you convince yourself you’re fine without it.

Ask yourself:

  • What needs have I silenced to seem “chill” or desirable?
  • Who benefits when I silence them and who suffers?

3. You romanticise emotional unavailability.

You’ve been trained to find mystery attractive. To think that coldness is masculinity. To chase instead of receive.

The patriarchy rewards women who wait to be chosen, not those who choose for themselves. So when someone is distant, your first instinct is to prove you’re worthy.

Example: He barely opens up, avoids emotional intimacy, or ghosts and returns, and you mistake this for passion or depth. You think, “If I just love him better, he’ll come around.”

But love isn’t a reward for self-abandonment.

Ask yourself:

  • What part of me still believes I have to earn love?
  • Where did I first learn to chase coldness and call it connection?

4. You over-function in the relationship.

Internalised patriarchy tells women that love must be earned through effort, through doing more, fixing more, carrying more.

You become the emotional manager, the planner, the forgiver, the one who “understands.” Meanwhile, your partner gets to just be, flawed, passive, even selfish, and still feel entitled to your care.

Example: You remind him of appointments, resolve conflicts, manage your emotions and his, hold space for his trauma… and still feel like you’re “not enough.”

This isn’t love. It’s performance. And it’s exhausting.

Ask yourself:

  • What roles have I taken on in love that were never mine to carry?
  • What do I believe will happen if I stop trying to hold it all together?

5. You downplay your success to protect his ego.

Internalised patriarchy whispers: “Don’t shine too bright. It’ll make him feel small.”

So you shrink. You under-celebrate your wins. You soften your ambition. You make yourself more digestible, not because you want to, but because you fear what your brilliance might do to his pride.

Example: You get a promotion but say, “It’s not a big deal.” You start a business but call it “a side project.” 

That’s not humility. That’s survival.

Ask yourself:

  • Where in my love life have I dimmed my light to be more palatable?
  • What would it look like to stop protecting someone else’s insecurity with my silence?

6. You equate emotional labour with love.

Internalised patriarchy teaches women that “caring for him, fixing him, and healing him is love.” So you become the unpaid therapist. The project manager of the relationship. The emotional shock absorber. You notice his moods, regulate his outbursts, translate his silences and call it intimacy. But it’s not love. It’s emotional labour, disguised as devotion.

Example: He shuts down during arguments, and you do all the work to resolve the fight. He doesn’t go to therapy, but you read self-help books to “understand him better.”You’re emotionally exhausted, but still ask him how he’s feeling.

Ask yourself:

  • Where have I mistaken emotional labour for emotional connection?
  • What would change if I believed I deserved to be held too?

7. You feel guilty for asking for more.

Internalised patriarchy conditions women to be low-maintenance, undemanding, grateful for crumbs. So when you ask for more, more time, more honesty, more consistency, you feel like you’re “too much.”You soften your needs. You rehearse your requests. You apologise for wanting what you actually deserve.

Example: You want quality time, but say “it’s okay, I know you’re busy.” You crave emotional intimacy, but say, “I know you’re not good with feelings.” You need clarity, but say, “take your time, no pressure.”

You were taught to shrink your needs so others could stay comfortable.

Reminder: Wanting more doesn’t make you demanding. It makes you awake.

Ask yourself:

  • What have I been made to feel guilty for needing?
  • What does the real, unashamed version of me want in love?

8. You seek permission instead of partnership.

Internalised patriarchy trains women to treat romantic relationships like authority hierarchies. You don’t just share your life, you ask if you’re allowed to live it.

You find yourself seeking approval instead of collaboration.

Example: You say, “Would it bother you if I…” You hold off on a job offer, a trip, or a haircut until you know how he feels. You shape your life to fit his comfort zone, even if he never asked you to.

Because you were taught that a good woman considers his opinion more than her own desires.

But a relationship is not a permission slip. It’s a co-created space.

Ask yourself:

  • Where am I still seeking approval instead of making aligned choices?
  • Who am I afraid to disappoint and why?

9. You think being “chosen” is the prize.

Patriarchy raised you to believe that love is something you earn and that being “picked” by a man means you’re worthy.

This idea runs so deep that sometimes, you chase the validation of being chosen even if the relationship isn’t right for you.

Example: You feel insecure if he’s not fully committing, not because you love him deeply, but because not being chosen makes you feel like you failed. You stay in relationships long past their expiry date, just to avoid feeling like you weren’t “good enough.”

You believe his choice defines your value. But you are not a prize to be won. You are a person to be met. This belief keeps you small. It keeps you performing. It keeps you waiting. Internalised patriarchy turns your love life into a beauty contest where the winner gets picked and disappears into someone else’s story.

Ask yourself:

  • Where in my life have I equated being chosen with being worthy?
  • What would change if I stopped chasing and started choosing?

10. You confuse intensity with intimacy.

Patriarchy teaches us that power, dominance, and possession are core expressions of love, especially in heterosexual relationships. It glorifies male control and emotional volatility as signs of passion, while portraying calm, emotionally attuned men as “weak” or “boring.”

So when you find calm, respectful connection, it feels boring. You crave the highs and lows because you’ve learned that love is supposed to hurt.

Example: You mistake his jealousy for care. You feel unloved when a relationship feels peaceful or drama-free. You question a healthy relationship simply because there’s no emotional chaos.

Ask yourself:

  • What kind of love feels “real” to me and why?
  • Is it intense… or is it safe?
  • What story about love am I still believing?

You don’t need a violent man for patriarchy to harm you. Sometimes, all it takes is being a woman who’s been taught to forget herself in the name of love.

Patriarchy thrives in the small things:
In your apologies.
In your overthinking.
In your quiet.
In your waiting.
In your settling.

This isn’t your fault, but it is your unlearning.

To notice where you’ve been trained to disappear.
To define love not by how much you endure, but by how fully you can be yourself inside it.

You don’t need to earn love.
You don’t need to shrink for it.

You were never too much.
You were taught to want less.

Come back to yourself.

What is your opinion?