“What Happens When Media Portrays Mental Health Issues as ‘Normal’ for South Asian Women?”

Introduction

She cries. She breaks. She stays silent. She continues.

The “strong South Asian woman” is often shown as someone who carries the emotional weight of her family, endures mental exhaustion, and suffers quietly. And here’s the dangerous part—media doesn’t just show this pattern. It normalizes it.

In many South Asian TV shows and films, women’s mental health struggles aren’t even framed as mental health issues. They’re seen as natural consequences of womanhood. Stress is a given. Depression is just “adjustment.” Anxiety is portrayed as maternal instinct. And trauma? Just another part of being a wife, daughter, or mother.

But when pain becomes routine, we stop recognizing it as pain. And when suffering is portrayed as normal, we stop believing healing is even possible.

“That’s Just How Women Are” — The Myth That Silences

From iconic soap operas to mainstream Bollywood films, women are shown enduring emotional abuse, gaslighting, abandonment, and grief with stoic grace. Rarely is therapy suggested. Rarely is emotional rest an option. Instead, resilience is framed as her only path—and often her only value.

Consider the endless cycle of domestic stress in serials like Kyunki Saas Bhi Kabhi Bahu Thi, Kasautii Zindagii Kay, or Humsafar. The daughter-in-law is misunderstood, manipulated, and mentally worn out—but it’s never called emotional labor. It’s just her “duty.” The audience is conditioned to sympathize with her—but never to encourage her to heal.

And if she ever breaks down? She’s “weak.” Or worse, the villain.

The Problem with “Silent Strength”

When mental distress is normalized in South Asian women, it becomes invisible. A woman suffering from anxiety isn’t portrayed as needing help—she’s “overthinking.” A woman losing herself in caregiving isn’t burned out—she’s “sacrificing.” This portrayal conditions generations of women to suppress, endure, and internalize their pain.

By calling it strength, media gaslights women into believing their exhaustion is expected. It’s why so many Desi women experience guilt when they can’t function. Why they apologize for needing therapy. Why they think asking for help is selfish.

This isn’t empowerment. It’s erasure.

Examples from the Screen

In Thappad (2020), Amrita (Taapsee Pannu) endures emotional suffocation in her marriage until a single slap wakes her up—not to violence, but to a lifetime of overlooked pain. For once, the film breaks the narrative and validates her voice.
In Pakistani dramas like Daam or Zindagi Gulzar Hai, women silently carry trauma from broken families or childhood poverty, but healing is rarely discussed. Their success is shown, but their scars are not.
In many romantic Bollywood films (Kal Ho Naa Ho, Veer-Zaara, Tanu Weds Manu), women suffering from depression or emotional instability are brushed off as “moody,” “difficult,” or “selfish.” Rarely is mental illness named, much less de-stigmatized.

Why This Normalization Is Dangerous

It delays diagnosis
When pain is portrayed as standard, real mental illness is often ignored or misdiagnosed, especially in women juggling family responsibilities and work.
It romanticizes suffering
Emotional resilience becomes a prerequisite for respect, creating unrealistic standards where breakdowns are seen as failures of character rather than cries for help.
It isolates women
If all the women on screen seem to handle immense emotional pain without seeking help, real-life women feel ashamed for struggling or speaking up.
It teaches the next generation to accept it too
Young girls grow up watching their role models endure, not escape. They learn that emotional pain is inevitable and healing is optional.

What Needs to Change

We need media that:

Shows therapy and mental healthcare as normal, not taboo.
Portrays breakdowns as a need for healing, not drama.
Celebrates boundaries, not only sacrifice.
Creates room for flawed, vulnerable, real women.

Let’s move away from narratives where women are “strong” only when they’re silent and broken. Let’s tell stories where South Asian women are allowed to fall apart and rebuild—with dignity, support, and visibility.

Conclusion

When the media treats mental health struggles as normal for South Asian women, it doesn’t just reflect culture—it perpetuates it. It teaches that pain is her baseline. That exhaustion is part of her gender. That asking for help is betrayal, not bravery.

But here’s the truth: Mental health struggles should never be normal. Empathy should be. Support should be. Healing should be.

And it starts by changing the stories we tell.