Actress-producer Lakshmi Manchu has delivered a bold personal statement about how she was brought up, admitting that she was taught to “worship men,” a mindset she says reflects deep-rooted patriarchal conditioning. Overcoming that upbringing has shaped not only her worldview, but also the way she lives her life, making her an outspoken voice for self-respect, autonomy and equality.
Lakshmi, who is married to US-based IT professional Andy Srinivasan, spoke candidly about her upbringing in a traditional household. As she puts it, the expectation was clear: women were to revere men unquestioningly. But over time, Lakshmi began to question that premise. She decided to reject the automatic subservience that was expected of her, choosing instead to build her own identity, on her own terms.
Her journey, from the daughter of a cinema family to a self-reliant woman forging her own path, has been far from conventional. Rather than conform to expectations of how a “good girl” should behave, she moved to the United States, studied theatre, worked her way through small jobs and built her craft. Later, on returning to India, she carved out a niche for herself in Telugu and Indian cinema, not as a stereotype, but as a woman who could make her own decisions, including about relationships, career, motherhood (through surrogacy), and public identity.
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In her recent statement, Lakshmi didn’t shy away from pointing out the contradictions women often have to navigate, especially when they belong to prominent film families or are in the public eye. She has called out the entertainment industry’s double standards: while men are seldom questioned, women often face scrutiny over their life choices, age, body, or relationships. For her, rejecting the idea of “worshipping men” doesn’t mean disrespect, it means claiming her dignity, asserting autonomy, and refusing to be defined by someone else’s script.
Her stand has resonated with many, not just as celebrity boldness, but as a lifeline to women who’ve felt trapped by tradition, expectation or social shame. Lakshmi’s story shows that the struggle against patriarchy isn’t always about grand protests, but often about everyday decisions, choosing where to live, how to dress, what to say, who to love, how to speak up.
Of course, speaking out has not been easy. Lakshmi has often faced criticism, trolling and judgment for defying norms. But she says that this too is part of the price of freedom, and insists that being true to oneself matters more than pleasing society.
In a culture that still expects women to defer, to soften, to accommodate, Lakshmi Manchu’s voice is a call for unapologetic selfhood. She reminds us that respect cannot be demanded, it must be earned, including from those who believe they are owed it. And sometimes, that starts with rejecting the idea that reverence, or “worship”, is the only way women must behave.
Her life, in many ways, is a living challenge to deeply ingrained norms. It asks a simple, yet radical, question: must a woman’s worth always be measured by how well she bows? Lakshmi’s answer: no. Bow if you choose, but you don’t have to.