How Patriarchy Alienates Men from Shared Parenting and Emotional Fulfillment

In the quiet hours of a Sunday afternoon, Arjun sat on the living room floor, surrounded by soft toys and building blocks. His three-year-old daughter giggled as she constructed towers only to knock them down again. For a fleeting moment, everything felt right. But in the background lingered a voice—generations deep—that whispered: This isn’t a man’s place.

Across cultures and centuries, patriarchy has dictated what it means to be a “real man.” Power. Stoicism. Provider. Protector. But within this tightly sealed definition, emotional fulfilment and shared parenting—the very things that give relationships their soul—are too often considered signs of weakness, or worse, irrelevance.

The cost? A quiet alienation that many men carry, unspoken and unacknowledged.

The Patriarchal Blueprint: Where It Begins

Patriarchy doesn’t begin in boardrooms or war zones. It begins in the nursery, where little boys are told not to cry. It follows them to the schoolyard, where sensitivity is ridiculed, and into adulthood, where emotional expression becomes a landmine.

For men, the traditional masculine script leaves little room for nurturing roles. While modern families are increasingly advocating for gender-equal parenting, the residue of old norms persists. Many men want to be involved fathers. They want to rock their babies to sleep, show up for parent-teacher meetings, and form deep emotional bonds. But social expectations often cast them as helpers, not equals. As if fatherhood were optional—an act of choice rather than identity.

And so, men find themselves on the periphery of parenting, watching the most intimate moments of their child’s life unfold like a play in which they were never cast in the lead.

The Silent Grief of Emotional Disconnection

In traditional models, fatherhood is frequently equated with financial provision. Time, attention, and vulnerability—cornerstones of emotional fulfilment—are treated as luxuries or even liabilities. This alienates men not only from their children but from parts of themselves that crave connection, softness, and belonging.

Men internalise the belief that emotional labour is not their domain. But suppressing vulnerability comes at a price. Studies have shown that fathers who are less engaged in caregiving roles often struggle with emotional distance, not just from their children, but within their marriages and even their own identities.

Arjun, like many men, grew up watching his father as a distant figure—a man who left early, returned late, and believed that loving his children meant “being tough for their sake.” Today, Arjun fights the quiet battle of showing up emotionally for his daughter while navigating the guilt, confusion, and social pressure that come with stepping outside the traditional mold.

Cultural Scripts and the Fear of Judgment

Patriarchy thrives on conformity. When men deviate—by taking paternity leave, choosing to be stay-at-home dads, or actively participating in caregiving—they often face subtle forms of social punishment. Raised eyebrows. Backhanded compliments. Workplace jokes that imply they’ve lost their ambition.

In Indian society, especially, where the masculine ideal is often tethered to stoicism and sacrifice, such choices are seen as acts of rebellion. Fathers are applauded for “babysitting” their own children, but are rarely encouraged to become co-parents in the truest sense.

This creates a double bind. On one hand, men yearn for the intimacy and meaning that come from shared parenting. On the other, they fear judgment—for being too soft, too available, too human.

The Emotional Fulfilment Men Are Missing

The truth is, shared parenting offers a kind of emotional nourishment that many men have been conditioned to overlook. It’s in the messy, mundane moments—changing diapers, soothing cries, preparing breakfast—that deeper connections are forged. Not just with children, but with one’s own capacity to feel, love, and grow.

When men are fully present in their children’s lives, they don’t just raise better-adjusted kids—they become more emotionally resilient themselves. They learn empathy. They experience joy unfiltered. They discover dimensions of care and tenderness that rigid masculinity never made room for.

Emotional fulfilment doesn’t come from status or salary. It comes from presence. From hearing your child laugh in their sleep, or being the arms they run to when frightened. Yet patriarchy keeps many men from tasting this richness by convincing them they are unworthy—or incapable—of such intimacy.

Healing the Disconnect: A Cultural and Personal Reckoning

To dismantle this alienation, we need more than policy changes or parental leave provisions (though those matter). We need cultural permission. We need new narratives.

Media and storytelling play a powerful role in shaping what we believe is possible. We need more films, ads, books, and conversations that depict emotionally present fathers—not as exceptions, but as norms. We need to celebrate the man who leaves work early for a school recital just as much as the one who wins a promotion.

We also need personal courage. For men to sit with their discomfort. To question the stories they inherited. To risk vulnerability in exchange for something deeper: belonging, connection, and meaning.

What Shared Parenting Really Means

Shared parenting is not just about equal duties; it’s about mutual emotional investment. It’s about fathers being allowed—not just expected—to care. And mothers being supported—not judged—when they share the mental load.

True equity is not transactional; it is transformative. When parenting becomes a shared journey rather than a delegated task, the entire family unit thrives. Children grow up seeing tenderness in men and strength in women. They learn that love is not defined by gender roles, but by presence and participation.

Reimagining Masculinity with Compassion

In the end, this is not just about parenting—it’s about redefining masculinity itself.

We often speak of how patriarchy harms women, which it undoubtedly does. But it also robs men—of depth, of intimacy, of wholeness. It alienates them from the very relationships that could heal their inner wounds.

For Arjun, and countless fathers like him, the journey of reclaiming emotional fulfilment starts with showing up—awkwardly, imperfectly, but wholeheartedly. It starts with the radical act of choosing to feel. Of choosing connection over convention.

And in that choice lies a quiet revolution—one where men are no longer spectators in their own emotional lives, but participants, nurturers, and healers.

Conclusion

Patriarchy may have scripted a narrow role for men, but the story is far from over. With every diaper changed, every tear wiped, every bedtime story read, men can rewrite what it means to be a father—and a man.

The emotional fulfilment they seek isn’t out of reach. It’s in their hands, waiting for them to choose it. Not just for their children, but for themselves. And perhaps, for the world that desperately needs more of their tenderness.