“He stood like a mountain, while storms passed through him.
Not because he never felt the rain,
But because somewhere along the journey,
He was taught that mountains don’t cry.”

I have spent the last few weeks immersed in two remarkable journeys—Indra Nooyi’s My Life in Full and the biography of Ratan Tata – A life. Two extraordinary leaders, two exceptional minds, two individuals who carried unimaginable responsibility on their shoulders.

Yet, as I turned the pages, one question quietly refused to leave me.

Why is it that men and women, standing shoulder to shoulder in equally demanding, high-pressure roles, seem to carry the weight of stress so differently?

Why is a stressed woman often understood, while a stressed man is frequently misunderstood?

The more I observed people around me, the more this question became less about workplaces and more about society, the Invisible Contract Men Never Signed. Every successful man I have met carries two jobs.

• One is the one mentioned in his appointment letter.
• The other begins the moment he leaves office.

He must remain dependable. He must remain calm. He must provide. He must solve problems. He must never let the family feel insecure. He must smile for the children. He must reassure his parents. He must be emotionally available to his spouse. And somehow, he must do all of this without looking tired.

It’s almost as though society silently whispers to men, “Whatever happened at work… leave it outside the door.”

The irony?

Stress doesn’t know where the office ends and home begins.

One part of Indra Nooyi’s autobiography stayed with me.

She openly describes the enormous pressure of balancing global leadership with motherhood and family expectations. She writes candidly about guilt, exhaustion, impossible schedules and the emotional complexity of “having it all.” She has often spoken about how women are expected to excel professionally while continuing to shoulder a disproportionate share of domestic responsibilities.

Her honesty is powerful, she never pretends leadership is easy, and perhaps that’s what makes readers connect with her.

She gave herself permission to say,

“This is difficult.”

I wondered…

How many male CEOs write with the same emotional openness?

Very few….Not because they don’t experience stress. Perhaps because they were never taught they could talk about it.

Women Express…..Men Absorb….

My dear women readers, this is not a criticism. It is an observation.

Many women process stress externally, they discuss it with friends, they call their mothers, they vent-out, they cry, they seek reassurance, and they may openly say,

“Today was horrible.”

Most people don’t judge them for it, in fact, they often receive empathy.

Men, on the other hand, frequently process stress internally, instead of speaking… they become quieter. Instead of crying…they become irritable. Instead of asking for help… they work longer. Instead of saying, “I’m overwhelmed”, they simply say, “I’m tired.”

The emotion remains, only its language changes.

Ratan Tata never needed many words, reading about Ratan Tata reminded me that dignity sometimes speaks louder than expression. Throughout decades of leading the Tata Group through acquisitions, crises and public scrutiny, he rarely projected panic. He often emphasized calm decision-making, integrity and responsibility over emotional display. In interviews, he has reflected that people may forget what you said, but they remember how you made them feel, and he consistently modelled composure under pressure.

That doesn’t mean life was easy. It simply means composure became part of his leadership.

Infact, many Indian business leaders seem to share this philosophy. What India’s Business Leaders Quietly Teach Us ?

When I think about leaders like N. R. Narayana Murthy, Anand Mahindra, Ratan Tata and Sanjiv Puri, one common thread emerges.

None of them glorify stress. Neither do they display it dramatically.

Narayana Murthy has repeatedly spoken about discipline, hard work and long-term thinking, suggesting that consistency matters more than emotional reactions. Anand Mahindra often writes about curiosity, optimism and learning, even during uncertainty, encouraging perspective over panic. These leaders acknowledge pressure without allowing it to define their public identity.

Perhaps they learned early that leadership often demands emotional regulation.

But emotional regulation is not the same as emotional absence.

Does society kinders to women’s stress? I believe, in many ways, yes.

If a woman returns home visibly exhausted after managing board meetings all day, her family is more likely to recognise that she needs space.

If she says, “I don’t want to talk today”, many understand.

If a man comes home equally drained and becomes unusually silent or impatient… questions begin. “Why are you angry?” “What’s wrong with you?” “You’re always stressed.”

Sometimes, his silence is interpreted as indifference. Sometimes, his frustration is labelled aggression.

Very rarely does someone ask, “Are you carrying too much?”

Does this mean Men Handle Stress Better?

I don’t think so. I think they handle it differently.

Handling stress quietly is not the same as handling it well. Silence often delays healing.

Many men compartmentalise. Some immerse themselves in work, and some withdraw emotionally. Others channel stress into exercise, hobbies or long drives. And, a few explode after months of saying nothing.

Research in psychology consistently suggests that women, on average, are more likely to seek social support when stressed, whereas men are more likely to adopt problem-focused or avoidant coping strategies. Neither approach is universally better. Both have strengths and limitations, and both are shaped by biology, personality and, importantly, culture.

Perhaps Patriarchy Hurt Men Too… this thought stayed with me the longest.

We often discuss patriarchy as a system that placed expectations on women…

Rightly so.

But somewhere within that same system, men were handed a different burden. They became providers before becoming people. Protectors before becoming partners, problem-solvers before becoming sons.

They were admired for endurance, not for vulnerability.

Generation after generation, boys heard phrases like,“Be strong”,”Don’t cry”,“Man up”…

“Man up.”

No one realised that emotional muscles, when never stretched, eventually become rigid. Maybe that is why so many men struggle to describe what they feel. Not because they don’t feel deeply. But because they were never taught the vocabulary of emotion.

The Leadership We Need :

Perhaps the future of leadership is not about becoming tougher.

Perhaps it is about becoming more human.

Imagine homes where women can say, “Today was difficult,” without guilt.

And men can say the same…without judgement.

Imagine children growing up seeing both parents express emotion with honesty and respect.

That generation may inherit not just better workplaces—but healthier relationships.

My Final Thought

Closing Indra Nooyi’s autobiography and reflecting on the life of Ratan Tata left me with one quiet realization.

Stress does not discriminate. It sits in every boardroom, It follows every promotion, It accompanies every ambitious dream, the difference lies in how society permits us to carry it.

Maybe women have been learning to voice their burdens. Maybe men have been learning to hide theirs.

Neither path is complete.

Because true strength is not measured by how much pain we conceal.

It is measured by whether we can create a world where no one has to pretend they are carrying none at all. Perhaps the strongest man is not the one who never breaks. And the strongest woman is not the one who carries everything alone.

Perhaps the strongest human being is simply the one who knows that sharing the weight does not make it lighter because someone else carries it—it makes it lighter because someone else understands it.