If you feel like you’re doing it all, you probably are!

Not because your partner never lifts a finger, and not because you’re “better at it,” but because you are carrying the responsibility for noticing, remembering, planning, organising, and holding everything together. That weight has a name, even if it’s rarely acknowledged — Mental Load.

It reveals itself in everyday language, like “Just tell me what to do,” or “Just make a list” or “How can I help,” these questions sound helpful on the surface but are they really?

The mental load isn’t the physical task itself. It’s the constant background responsibility of noticing what needs to be done, anticipating current and future needs, remembering, planning, coordinating, and following up. It’s holding the household in your head, while also managing routines and often the emotional climate as well. The mental load exists whether or not the physical task is eventually shared.

When you’re asked to make a list, you’re being asked to think of everything that needs doing in order to create that list. You have to identify the task or problem, prioritise which one is most important, then delegate and track it. It’s exhausting and the work hasn’t even started yet! Meanwhile your partner simply executes what you’ve already managed and even then often does it in their time or not at all. That’s not partnership, that’s parenting.

When a man says, “What can I do to help?” his assumption is that the responsibility sits with you, which means he is assisting, not participating. The word “help” positions him as optional, as someone doing you a favour rather than sharing ownership.

The word “help” quietly reinforces the idea that housework is your responsibility, and any contribution from him is generous rather than expected. He feels helpful, and you may even express gratitude, but the structure underneath remains unchanged. You remain accountable, he remains optional.

This dynamic allows him to avoid learning what needs doing, avoid developing initiative, and avoid carrying responsibility. He is praised for participating, while you are criticised if you stop managing.

He will claim he participates, often citing examples of the tasks he “chooses” or you delegate.

Taking out the rubbish is a great example — it takes a few minutes, it happens once or twice a week and the result is immediate and obvious. The bin is empty, the job is done, it’s easy for him to point to and say, “See, I did something.”

“I fix things” is often another claim that he makes to show he contributes as much as you, but it usually doesn’t mean ongoing maintenance required to keep a home functioning. It means the idea that something will be fixed at some point. A loose handle, a broken drawer, a door that doesn’t close properly can sit there for weeks or months, yet he will claim it as a task whether it’s done or not. Just the promise to do it is enough in his mind that it’s a contribution. Whether he actually ever does it is another story.

Lawn mowing gets thrown around too. Lawn mowing is outdoors, often on a sunny day, and can feel more like he is taking a break from the house than a burden. It’s done weekly or less. Once it’s finished, it’s finished. The result is visible to everyone who walks past. He gets praise as it’s visible, meanwhile the invisible tasks you do — both mental and physical — are only ever noticed when they are not done. If I could exchange the mental load and all other domestic tasks for mowing the lawn once a week, I absolutely would. And this is what men will often say: “Then you do the lawns.” But as women we know that this will just add to our load, as it won’t be in exchange for all the other domestic tasks, it will be in addition.

The tasks he “chooses” are contained, they start, they end, they don’t follow him around in his head. Once they’re done he gets to mentally clock off.

That’s very different from the work that never really finishes.

The work that involves planning meals every day, noticing when groceries are running low, keeping track of appointments, remembering what needs washing, cleaning things that immediately get dirty again, and holding the household together in a hundred small, forgettable ways. There’s no clear moment where you can say, “This is done now.”

That’s why it is so unbalanced. You feel like you’re out of control and overwhelmed — as you probably are! And there’s the problem: when he genuinely feels like he’s contributing a lot, when he isnt, you become resentful.

This isn’t about laziness or bad intentions. It’s about which kinds of work are easy to see and which ones quietly live in your head. And when someone says, “Just ask me,” what they’re really saying is that they don’t want to carry that awareness. The thinking stays with you, so the responsibility never truly shifts.

If this feels familiar, it’s because you’re not imagining it. You’re noticing the difference between doing a task and carrying the load.

Partnership isn’t doing chores only when prompted, choosing preferred tasks, or expecting praise for the basics. Partnership is noticing what needs to be done, initiating action, sharing the mental load, and taking responsibility without being asked.

If you’re exhausted, it’s not because you’re failing. It’s because you’re doing more than your share.

This isn’t about blaming individual men. It’s about naming a script many of us were raised with. Men were taught domestic work is optional. Women were taught it is required. When a home is messy, women are judged — not men.

Changing this starts with language and behaviour. Not “help,” but shared responsibility. Not “ask me,” but noticing. Not “give me a list,” but ownership.

Domestic labour is real labour. And until it’s shared equally, many women will continue working a second, unpaid shift — unseen, unacknowledged, and exhausted.


How do you address the imbalance? Ask him to read this. If it’s helped you clarify what the mental load is, it may help clarify it for him as well — and if not, it will at least get the conversation started

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