Growth is scary

In her book, First Gen: A Memoir Alejandra Campoverdi discusses the few experiences that First and Onlys deal with such as, the bicultural balancing act, the trailblazer toll, and blindfolded cliff jumping. These are all struggles that are often unique to the First and Only experience. However, there’s another struggle that I believe deserves more attention, the difficulty many First and Onlys have in taking pride in their accomplishments.

A lot of us First and Onlys don’t really know how to sit in our wins. We don’t celebrate them. We move past them quickly because, in our minds, they’re not really accomplishments but obligations. They’re what we had to do. Not just for ourselves, but for our families, for our communities, for the people who believed in us and sacrificed so much to get us here.

I remember when I got my first law school acceptance, from UC Davis. That moment should’ve been huge. After all the stress of studying for the LSAT, writing endless personal statements, and second-guessing every part of my application, all the work had finally paid off. And it was exciting. My parents, even with all the questions they had about how we’d pay for it, what loans would look like, where I would live, they made sure to let me know how happy they were for me. My family was proud. My friends were proud. Everyone around me kept telling me how big of a deal this was.

But honestly, what I felt most in that moment was relief. Relief that all the money, time, and energy I had spent on this process hadn’t been a waste. Relief that I wouldn’t have to explain to anyone why I didn’t get in anywhere. Pride was a distant feeling in that moment, overshadowed by practical worries about what getting into law school entailed. I didn’t let myself celebrate. Mostly because I didn’t know how.

This is the case for many First and Onlys. Accomplishments often feel less like personal victories and more like fulfilling a responsibility. We don’t stop to say, “Wow, I did that,” we just look for what’s next. It’s like we’re afraid to be too proud because it feels like there’s always more to prove. I am reminded of a quote from Michelle Obama’s Becoming in which she says, “This may be the fundamental problem with caring a lot about what others think: It can put you on the established path – the my-isn’t-that-impressive path – and keep you there for a long time.” Like Michelle Obama, many First and Onlys find themselves on a path in which they have to be the most successful because that is the path they have been on.

However, as First and Only’s many of us have learned that one of the most important ways to not just survive but thrive is through self care. Self care has a huge impact on our mental health. Practicing self care can look like setting boundaries, staying connected to yourself, and making yourself a priority. For many First and Onlys, especially those that come from immigrant families, self care is never taught. We didn’t grow up seeing people rest. We didn’t grow up hearing that it was okay to take a break. So now, when we try to do it for ourselves, it feels uncomfortable. It feels selfish. It feels like a fight.

Learning to take care of ourselves is a process. Learning to be proud of ourselves is a process. And both can be scary. But they matter. Because we deserve to feel joy in what we’ve accomplished, not just for what it means to everyone else, but for what it means to us.

Acknowledging this fear is part of the healing process. And so is learning to take pride in our journeys, not just the milestones, but the grit that got us there. We deserve to celebrate ourselves, not only because of what we've accomplished, but because of who we’ve become in the process. To all the First and Onlys reading this: your success is not just an obligation, it’s a testament to your strength. And I will always be proud of you and me!