Why are women still doing the emotional work for two?

As a psychologist working with women navigating intimacy, relationships and vaginismus, I spend a lot of time understanding conversations that happen behind closed doors. On the surface, they seem to be about sex, pain, contraception, delayed periods or relationship concerns such as communication and enough quality time. But underneath, I often find women carrying responsibility for things that were never meant to be theirs alone.

One recurring pattern that we’ve been noticing is how much labour women do to keep relationships functioning. Not just emotional labour. Practical labour. Social labour. Sexual labour. The invisible work that keeps everyday life moving.

His social isolation = her responsibility

Urban women today have careers, friendships, hobbies, opinions, financial independence and lives that exist outside of their romantic relationships. Yet, I often hear them describe being the primary emotional and social support system for their partners.

She remembers birthdays. She plans social outings. She encourages him to call his friends. She reminds him to check in with family. She listens after difficult days at work. She becomes the person he processes everything with.

Of course emotional support is a part of any healthy relationship. Partners do (and should be able to) lean on each other. But when one becomes responsible for holding up the entire structure, doesn’t that signal a problem?

Some men enter relationships with very limited pre-existing emotional support systems. Few close friends. Few spaces where vulnerability feels acceptable. Over time, their partner becomes their therapist, social coordinator, accountability buddy and closest friend. And somehow, this is seen as normal.

If a man is lonely, the quiet expectation of helping him build his social life can fall upon his partner. If he is disconnected from friends and family, she should encourage and plan for him to reconnect. If he struggles emotionally, she should create space for him to open up. But his social isolation cannot become her unpaid labour.

Supporting someone we love is a part of the relationship. But becoming solely responsible for their social and emotional ecosystem is not. Perhaps a more helpful version of equality asks men to take ownership of building and maintaining their own support systems rather than outsourcing that work to the women they love.

Women and the consequences of relationships

Another pattern I see is how often women become responsible for managing the consequences of relationships. 

Physical intimacy involves two people. But when something happens, the administrative and emotional burden often lands on one. Think of when a condom breaks; period is delayed; sex becomes painful; or possible health concern emerges. Who starts researching? Who books appointments? Who keeps track of symptoms? Who lies awake at night wondering what might be wrong? More often than not, it is the woman.

In our vaginismus healing program, I see this clearly. Vaginismus affects a woman’s body, but it often exists within the context of a relationship. But what stands out to me is how quickly many women take ownership of the entire problem. They search for answers. They find specialists. They attend therapy. They “convince” the partner to show up for the couple’s session. They practice dilation. They consume information and then teach what they have learned to the partner. They track progress and update the partner about milestones. They worry about timelines. 

And often, they worry not only about themselves but also about how their partner is coping. Many women bring similar questions to sessions: “How long can I expect my partner to wait?” “What if he gets frustrated?” “I feel guilty that this is affecting our relationship.” “I feel guilty of depriving him of sex.”

Whenever I hear this, I find myself becoming curious about where this sense of responsibility comes from. Why do so many women instinctively position themselves as the person responsible for fixing a challenge that affects both the partners? Why does the burden settle so quickly on them?

I don’t think this begins with vaginismus. By the time women enter therapy, many have already spent years being socialised into noticing, anticipating and managing the needs of others. So when intimacy becomes difficult, it can feel natural to assume responsibility for their own experience as well as their partner’s.

I notice early in therapy that women are carrying two struggles at once. They are not only dealing with fear, pain, anxiety or trauma. They are also carrying responsibility for the impact the situation may have on someone else. The same pattern occurs in conversations about contraception and reproductive health.

Women are the ones expected to know when a delayed period needs medical attention, to understand fertility, to remember contraceptive schedules, to manage side effects, to navigate gynaecological appointments, to make sense of symptoms and to seek help when something feels wrong. Even in situations involving two people, the expertise, vigilance and responsibility are expected from one.

Shared responsibility

Our idea of equality does not ask men to stop having needs and meet some standards of perfect self-sufficiency. Neither does it call for women to stop supporting their partners. But it encourages acknowledging that support and responsibility are not the same thing.

A supportive partner can educate himself about sexual health rather than relying on his partner to teach him. He can learn about conditions that affect intimacy. He can take responsibility for booking appointments for sexual and reproductive health concerns that affect the relationship. He can build and maintain friendships that do not depend on his partner’s efforts. He can seek emotional support from people other than the woman he is dating or is married to. Most importantly, he can recognize that being in a relationship does not mean handing over parts of his life to someone. 

At PFH, we often talk about helping women navigate the realities of their lives. But our version of feminism is not about helping women carry these burdens more efficiently. It is about noticing the invisible jobs women have quietly inherited and asking whether they belong to them in the first place. Because relationships and responsibilities, both work better when care is shared.