We’ve all seen it — the melodramatic mother-in-law making her grand entrance to the tune of Jaws, while the anxious new girlfriend quivers in fear. From Hollywood’s Monster-in-Law to the notorious saas-bahu dramas of Hindi television to the fiery glances exchanged in telenovelas, the trope of the emotionally volatile mother-in-law wreaking havoc is a global staple.

As a psychiatrist, I’ve started to look at this often ridiculed pattern through a different lens. Beneath the surface humor lies an entrenched problem. Generations of societal conditioning have shaped how women regulate their emotions by teaching them to attune to others’ needs before their own. In many immigrant families, where collectivistic, patriarchal and hierarchical family structures shape every relationship, a woman’s sense of self-worth is often tied to how seamlessly she can adapt to the needs of those around her. 

Financial independence may have shifted expectations, but the underlying script remains: Women are frequently still framed as “to be married off” in many cultures, absorbed into a husband’s family and expected to bend their ambitions for others. Motherhood adds another level of complexity by fusing their identity with their child’s. Over time, this breeds what we psychiatrists call enmeshment — a state in which an individual’s identity and sense of emotional safety become dependent on validation from others rather than on their own emotions and desires.

The psychology behind the “overreaction”

Returning to our telenovela: What happens when a woman’s radar is so finely tuned to others’ reactions, and someone makes a lukewarm comment about the tea? What appears like an overreaction on the surface is often something deeper. 

In psychiatry, we call quick, dramatic shifts in mood “emotional lability” and the tendency to take every social cue to heart, “interpersonal hypersensitivity.” In plain English? It’s when someone’s emotions feel like a rollercoaster — so tied to others’ reactions that a raised eyebrow can send them spiraling and a kind word can make them soar. Research shows that people who experience this kind of emotional volatility often have increased activity in their amygdala, a region of the brain that processes fear, threat and emotional arousal.

Clinically, when someone has an unstable sense of self — feels empty on the inside, struggles to understand and regulate their emotions, and experiences intense, stormy relationships — we might use the term “borderline traits” to describe them, or Borderline Personality Disorder, when it’s severe. Even small disagreements can feel like overwhelming rejection. For example, when a son cancels dinner with his parents to have dinner with his girlfriend’s family. On the flip side, they can pour themselves into relationships, often losing their sense of self and swinging between emotional extremes within hours. In its more severe form, this instability can lead to impulsivity or self-harm following minor stressors. 

Doesn’t this sound similar to the stereotypical portrayal of a melodramatic housewife?

When a woman’s attention is constantly focused outwards on the desires of others, rather than inwards on her own needs and emotions, it creates a sense of emptiness within. She never develops a cohesive sense of self and remains unable to truly know who she is. The woman who was never permitted to feel for herself becomes the mother, aunt, sister, grandmother or mother-in-law who unknowingly perpetuates the cycle for the next generation.

Ancient wisdom meets modern therapy

In recent years, mindfulness and meditation have become modern prescriptions for stress and anxiety. These practices originate from ancient Buddhist and Hindu traditions that have long emphasized observing and becoming aware of one’s inner world. Interestingly, one of the most effective therapies for Borderline Personality Disorder, Dialectical Behavior Therapy (DBT), borrows directly from these same traditions.

Developed by psychologist Marsha Linehan, DBT integrates mindfulness principles to help people recognize and name their emotions rather than suppress them. Much like these Eastern practices, it invites us to observe and use our emotions as tools without being consumed by them. 

Rewriting the script

At the end of the day, the “monster-in-law” trope isn’t just a caricature of family drama — it’s a mirror. It reflects generations of women taught to find worth in service, validation and emotional labor, often at the expense of their own self-awareness and mental health. While this sensitivity has created incredible mothers, daughters, caretakers, healthcare workers and teachers, the story doesn’t have to end there. 

The same sensitivity, when turned inward with self-compassion, can become a source of strength. By having open conversations in our communities about these experiences, connecting with Eastern practices and recognizing their connections to modern psychotherapy, women can learn not only to read the room but also to read themselves; to hold space for others without losing their identities and well-being. In doing so, we begin to rewrite the script where women aren’t just defined by how well they serve, but by how deeply they know and care for themselves. 

The conversation starts here.

[Rosa Messer edited this piece]

The views expressed in this article are the author’s own and do not necessarily reflect Fair Observer’s editorial policy.