It’s okay to breathe

Before this class, I had not taken the time to reflect on my journey throughout higher education and my identity. Now, I have noticed I am a combination of multiple identities: a first-generation college student, a woman of color, and the eldest daughter of immigrant parents. Strangely enough, all of these identities are deeply intertwined with one another.

One identity I have yet to reflect on is being the eldest daughter of immigrant parents. Some writers, like Megan Wallace, have described this experience as the eldest daughter syndrome. The label is not a psychological condition but rather a phenomenon that describes how eldest daughters often “[pick] up the mental load for the family” and become a “third parent” for their younger siblings.

Parenting becomes difficult when the couple moves to a foreign nation. While trying to assimilate to a new culture, they are learning how to be parents and raise a child in a multicultural setting.

Jacqueline Delgadillo, the eldest daughter of immigrant parents, writes how her parents encouraged her to go after the American Dream, but she discovered the dream was not what it seemed at first glance. In pursuit of this dream, she constantly tried to be the perfect role model for her siblings, while her siblings were not afraid to break the rules.

Similar to Delgadillo, I have also felt the burden of being the perfect role model for my siblings. It was always a constant balance between an academically excelling student and a dutiful daughter. The main reason for maintaining this balance was for two reasons. First, I felt my good grades were proof that my parents’ sacrifice in moving to this country had a purpose. Second, I felt being the responsible daughter demonstrated I had not forgotten my cultural roots. As a result, this placed considerable pressure on me for years.

Although her parents were not immigrants, Supreme Court Justice Sonia Sotomayor is another notable eldest daughter of Puerto Rican-born parents. In her memoir My Beloved World, she described how she learned to cultivate “existential independence” from a young age because Sotomayor felt all the adults in her life were unreliable.

Like Sotomayor, I have realized I have created a heightened sense of independence. For example, I remember multiple group projects in high school where I had to take the lead or complete most of the project. So, I always grew up thinking that the only person I could rely on was myself.

Due to the constant pressure of perfectionism and hyper-independence, I felt overwhelmed by the smallest task because I was afraid of the negative consequences and the uncertainty. Whenever I would start an assignment, the first thing I would think about was how it could go wrong. However, I did not notice the extent of my “glass half empty” persona until one of my college friends asked me why I was in such a frenzy for sending a simple email to my professor.

It is not until you reflect that you can start to heal. So, what have I done to heal?

I learned the importance of balance and prioritizing myself. As the eldest daughter, I always felt it was necessary to overlook every aspect of my siblings’ lives. What are they doing? What classes are they taking? Will they reach their goal? It is something I have done my whole life, whether it was helping them with their homework or picking them up from school.

I realized I needed to let my siblings live life without my constant worry and I needed to take the time to focus solely on my goals.

Healing does not happen overnight. I am constantly learning where to draw the line between when am I being helpful and when am I doing everything myself. The pressure of being the eldest daughter and law school can feel like I am constantly swimming without enough oxygen. A swimmer can only swim so long before breaking to the surface.

So, I have understood it is okay to take a second and breathe. It is only when we reflect, we truly learn how to become better.