In Punjabi households, love has never been just about two people — it’s about two families, two histories, and two sets of expectations converging into one future.
When a couple isn’t from the same hometown, an age-old question quietly rises to the surface:
“Who should move?”
On the surface, it sounds simple. But beneath it lies a tangle of cultural tradition, unspoken sacrifices, and the very practical realities of modern life.
For generations, the answer was unquestioned — the woman would leave her family home and join her husband’s world. It wasn’t seen as a choice, but as the natural order of things, woven into the structure of joint families, patriarchal inheritance laws, and the rhythms of village life.
Today, that certainty is gone. Women are no longer raised solely to leave; they are educated, independent, and often the emotional and practical anchors of their own families. Men, meanwhile, are being asked to adapt to new definitions of partnership, even as cultural expectations continue to measure them by old ones.
And somewhere between tradition and modernity, this question — “Who should move?” — has become more than a matter of location. It has become a test of values, priorities, and what each person is willing to trade in the name of love.
I ran a poll on Instagram recently, asking my male followers how they felt about relocating for marriage. On the surface, the results looked evenly split — 50% said “I’m not moving — it’s tradition for the woman to relocate,” while the other 50% chose “I’d be willing to move for the right woman.”
But when I looked more closely, it became clear that the results were slightly skewed — some of the votes on the “I’d move” side came from female followers! Once I filtered that out, the message became much clearer: most Punjabi men still want to follow cultural tradition and expect their partner to move to their location.
To dig deeper, I asked the gents to DM me their thoughts directly — and many did. Their responses went beyond just “It’s tradition.” They spoke about identity, pride, family structure, and the quiet pressure to uphold a role that’s been modelled for them their entire lives.
To understand why this continues to matter so much, we need to revisit where this tradition comes from.
Why Did Women Traditionally Move to the Man’s Location?
This long-standing practice wasn’t about convenience — it was about structure. For generations, Punjabi society was built around shared homes, extended families, and deeply gendered roles.
1. The Joint Family System
In traditional households, sons stayed with their parents and carried the family name, while daughters were lovingly raised with the understanding that one day, they would join another home. A woman’s move symbolised not just marriage — but transition, loyalty, and belonging.
2. Patriarchal Inheritance Laws
Land and wealth traditionally passed through the male line. The ancestral home, the family farm, and the financial legacy remained with the son — so the wife entered his world. Her relocation preserved the structure, while her contributions were expected to uphold it.
3. Agricultural Roots
In villages across Punjab, families worked the land together. For a man to move away would mean leaving behind both economic stability and generational duty. In contrast, a woman’s departure — while emotional — was absorbed as part of the expected lifecycle.
4. Honour (Izzat)
Cultural perceptions of honour played a powerful role. A daughter moving into her husband’s household maintained tradition and upheld the family’s reputation. In many families, honour was closely tied to how well cultural rituals and expectations were maintained during marriage.
5. Dowry and Social Norms
Dowry practices further entrenched the belief that a woman “takes her share” and starts anew with her husband’s family. This transition wasn’t just a move — it was a cultural exchange.
To question this framework is not to disrespect it — but to recognise that the world in which these norms were created is not the world we live in now.
The Modern Female Perspective
For many of my Punjabi female clients today, the expectation to move after marriage doesn’t just feel outdated — it feels like a reversal of everything they’ve worked to build.
These women are not only educated and professionally established, but have built full lives in their own right. They own homes, lead teams, and are deeply embedded in their communities. To leave all of that behind for marriage isn’t a small step — it’s a major emotional and practical shift.
This isn’t about rejecting culture. Most women still want the Anand Karaj, the blessings, the beauty of a traditional union. But they want to feel that the traditions they’re embracing are also embracing them — as full, equal contributors to the relationship and to both families.
This is where the tension lives — between honouring culture and honouring self. And if we want to make space for meaningful partnerships, we have to start making space for these conversations too.
When Daughters Become the Backbone
There’s a growing truth that often goes unspoken: daughters are now just as involved — and in many cases, more involved — in caring for their parents than sons. They’re the ones coordinating doctor’s appointments, checking in daily, managing household tasks, and sometimes even financially supporting their families. This represents a quiet but profound cultural shift.
For generations, many Punjabi families placed a strong emphasis on having sons — often with the belief that “a son will look after us in old age.” But today, that assumption is being challenged.
In families with no sons, it’s daughters who are taking the lead in caring for aging parents — emotionally, financially, and logistically. And even in families with sons, many of those men no longer live close by — sometimes because of work, but often because their wives don’t want to live with or near in-laws. As a result, it’s the daughters who are stepping into the traditional role of the son — quietly, lovingly, and without the cultural recognition that role typically receives.
And yet, when marriage enters the picture, this role is quietly expected to vanish.
She is asked to move away — sometimes to a different city, sometimes to another country — and leave behind the very people she’s been holding together. It’s framed as tradition, as the natural next step. But for women deeply embedded in their parents’ lives, this “next step” can feel like a forced exit from a role that still matters.
“I’m not just leaving a postcode — I’m leaving the people I feel responsible for.”
When we ask women to move without recognising what they’re already carrying, we risk turning tradition into disconnection — not just from her parents, but from herself.
How The Location Dilemma Impacts Men on a Deeper Level
Many men feel frustrated when they’re expected to adapt to modern expectations (like relocating for a woman), while still being held accountable to traditional roles in every other aspect. It’s not that they’re unwilling to compromise — many are — but there are so many layered factors to consider: cultural perception, family expectations, financial responsibilities, and their own sense of identity and pride.
1. A Hit to Masculinity & Identity
In many families, a man is still seen as the one who must “carry the family forward.” Moving for love — especially into his partner’s world — can disrupt traditional markers of masculinity. In the Punjabi community, a man moving for a woman can still carry social stigma.
Enter the label “ghar da jawayee” (literally, “the son-in-law of the house”). It refers to a man who lives with or near his wife’s family after marriage. To be called a “ghar da jawayee” isn’t merely descriptive; it’s loaded with mockery and emasculation. It suggests a man has relinquished control, abandoned his duties, or is somehow less worthy of respect. Even if he moves for love or practicality, the term can follow him — with an undercurrent of judgement.
“The lads won’t say it to my face — but I’ll never hear the end of it behind my back.”
2. Cultural Double Standards
Today’s men are expected to be modern partners — emotionally available, respectful of women’s autonomy, supportive of their partner’s career. Many Punjabi men want to be exactly that. But they also carry the weight of cultural expectations — to provide, protect, uphold family honour, and lead the household.
From a male perspective, culture can feel cherry-picked — celebrated when it’s joyful and vibrant, but rejected when it carries responsibility or sacrifice. That leaves men unsure of what’s truly expected of them.
3. Fear of Being Controlled or Undermined
For many Punjabi men, relocating into their partner’s world feels like giving up more than just a postcode — it can feel like losing their voice. Even with a kind and supportive in-law family, the unspoken reality is clear: he’s the guest, the outsider.
It’s not about ego — it’s about the erosion of feeling like the leader of his own life. This fear can breed silence, withdrawal, and quiet resentment.
4. Unspoken Shame or Internal Conflict
Even without open criticism, many men carry silent guilt — the feeling they’ve “betrayed” their role as a son by not staying close and carrying the family name forward in the traditional way.
This emotional tug-of-war — between being a good son and a good husband — can quietly weigh them down:
“Did I just choose my partner over my parents?”
“What if this doesn’t work out, and I’ve lost both?”
When Tradition Meets Practicality
The Cost of Living Can’t Be Ignored
As much as we want to honour tradition, today’s couples are navigating a very different world — one where the cost of living often trumps cultural expectations.
Rent and mortgage rates vary dramatically depending on location. So do job opportunities, childcare costs, and overall quality of life. For many modern couples, choosing where to live after marriage isn’t just about “who should move” — it’s about what makes sense financially.
A city where one partner has strong career prospects might offer more stability than a location tied to tradition alone. Or perhaps living in a smaller town near one family means being able to afford a house instead of a one-bedroom flat in a big city.
These aren’t superficial trade-offs. They affect long-term goals like:
- Buying a home
- Starting a family
- Building generational wealth
- Supporting aging parents
Couples today must be willing to ask:
“Where can we actually afford to build the life we want?”
This doesn’t mean tradition should be abandoned. But it does mean it must be balanced with practicality, sustainability, and a long-term vision for the future.
The Illusion of the Halfway Point
During my Instagram poll, I also offered a third option:
“We’d relocate somewhere in the middle.”
It sounded like a fair compromise — a modern solution to an age-old cultural tug-of-war. And unsurprisingly, quite a few people selected it.
But here’s the reality: while relocating halfway might feel like a balanced decision on the surface, it often leads to a different kind of sacrifice — one that’s far more emotionally, socially, and practically draining than people expect.
Because in trying to be fair to both, you risk belonging to neither.
In today’s world, it’s increasingly common for both partners to be deeply rooted — in their careers, communities, and responsibilities to their families. And when love grows between two people who both feel firmly settled, the question becomes less about who should move, and more about whether anyone should move at all.
At first, it might seem logical to meet in the middle — a fresh start in a new location. But is that really a compromise… or just a quiet sacrifice on both sides?
Choosing a neutral city sounds fair — neither person wins, neither person loses. But the reality often feels very different. Instead of building on familiar ground, you’re both starting from zero. You lose your community, your history, your comfort zones — all at once. You’re not just relocating homes; you’re relocating your entire support system.
New cities mean new jobs, new routines, new relationships. In theory, it sounds exciting. In practice, it’s exhausting. With no immediate friends, no go-to places, and no local family, the emotional weight of starting again can hit hard — especially when you’re also adjusting to a new marriage or partnership.
The cost becomes even more evident when children enter the picture. With neither set of parents nearby, you’re raising a family without the support system that shaped so many of us growing up. No grandparents to lean on, no cousins to play with, no elders to guide.
“It takes a village to raise a child” isn’t just poetic — it’s practical. And when you move somewhere neutral, that village disappears.
Other Modern Realities Changing the Conversation
Second Marriages & Later-in-Life Partnerships
In second marriages or relationships formed later in life, both partners are often far more established — with careers, homes, children, and deep community ties. In these cases, relocation can feel less like a romantic adventure and more like a disruptive upheaval. Practicality often takes precedence over tradition, and couples may choose to maintain separate bases or negotiate creative living arrangements that respect both sets of responsibilities.
Long-Distance as a Third Solution
While less traditional, some couples are now choosing to maintain long-distance relationships — at least for a season. Technology, flexible work, and travel options make it possible for partners to stay connected while each remains in their own city. It’s not without challenges, but for some, it’s a way to honour careers, family commitments, and community roots without forcing one person to uproot entirely.
Conclusion: The Question Beneath the Question
The debate over who should move is never just about geography. It’s about identity, belonging, loyalty, and the invisible threads of culture that tie us to home.
For women, relocating can mean leaving behind independence and their role in their parents’ lives. For men, it can challenge deep cultural identity and stir quiet guilt.
The strongest couples aren’t the ones who avoid the price of moving — they’re the ones who face it honestly, without illusions. The real question isn’t “Who should move?” — it’s “What are we building, and what are we willing to give up to protect it?”
When both people can answer that without fear, resentment, or confusion, they’ve already taken the first step toward a marriage that’s not only culturally aware — but unshakably strong.
With warmth and love,
Happie
