It has been a deep appreciation for the colour black as I have grown into my early twenties, a time where I am working to look put together and put together. Something is appealing about the mysterious nature it carries, the unpredictability it exudes, and the elegance it commands. Sometimes I wish I could be black, to have both its allure and strength. But then I wrestle with this inner question: am I a solitary black cat or a friendly golden retriever? And so, that is the dilemma I face: which of the many selves am I when with whom? It's a hard fight, for hyper-independence and perfectionism seem deeply a part of who I am.
As the eldest daughter in an Indian family, I feel the weight of expectations ever so deeply. It's a familiar narrative—the first-born girl often becomes acutely aware of her parents' subtle changes, from her mother's slight discomfort to her father's first grey hairs and the growing list of prescriptions each month. These signs tug at her threads of responsibility, urging her to mature fast and assume the numerous obligations ahead. This is an age-old story which resonates with many of us, especially coming from our 'silent sacrifices' to vocalizing our experiences. The term "eldest daughter syndrome" has emerged, bringing us together as those of us who share this fight, offering a soothing knowledge that we're not alone in navigating the complexities of our roles in our families. As I think about my life so far, I realize I have often been introduced not by my name, but as "Sharma Ji Ki Badi Beti" or through the list of achievements that I have done.
Growing up in a brown household, I had taken on the role of a responsible elder daughter the moment my younger sibling arrived. I became a role model, an emotional anchor for my family, and a symbol of respect. While these responsibilities shaped much of my identity, they also came with the expectation to temper my voice and opinions. Yet, there comes a time when the burden of being the watchguard of familial ideals can wear heavy. This narrative, though often glorified in cinematic portrayals, highlights the strength it takes to balance our hopes. In navigating these expectations, we discover the power within ourselves to honour both our loved ones and our dreams. But I often pause and reflect: if demonstrating love for our cherished ones means putting our own needs aside, then I would rather not be seen as the moral, righteous, and picture-perfect elder daughter.
Love should never be transactional; it should not depend on a child's willingness to sacrifice their desires to meet familial expectations. Unfortunately, we live in a society where external pressures and the fear of "Log Kya Kahenge" are often prioritized over the happiness and aspirations of the younger generation. As much as I would want to believe that I am immune to these norms, the truth reveals itself in every corner of my life. It could be the drive for overachievement, the constant urge to be productive, or the dread I feel toward emotional vulnerability; the eldest daughter syndrome challenges my perspective and often complicates my sense of self.
A lot of my tendency to need extreme control and predict the worst possible outcomes comes from the strict environment I grew up in. In my household, showing anger or not following the rules was not accepted. I found my sense of self in academic achievements and learned to be quiet, keeping my opinions to myself. But as I grew older, I began to realize that I had become the living version of a dream I never even thought to have! Underneath all the pressure to be perfect, flawless, and morally upright, my true self was just waiting to be discovered. I found that my need for control was influenced by my interests in psychology, astrology, and literature. These became my escape! As I started to uncover the real me, learning about my personality type and exploring my astrological signs felt like getting a warm hug of understanding. It was like diving deep into an ocean, illuminating the hidden parts of myself with a light of hope.
Right now, I may not have all the answers about who I truly am or what my life purpose is, and that’s okay! As life moves forward, I’m becoming more comfortable with the uncertainty of the future. I’m learning to love myself for who I am—creative, ambitious, fierce, kind, loyal, honest, and loving. Sure, I sometimes still slip back into those hyper-independent and overachieving habits typical of an elder daughter, but I'm embracing all the different sides of myself with open arms.
To each elder daughter who reads this, I hope she finds the self-love and courage to take time for herself and her needs. It's easy to get caught up in the pressures of overachieving or trying to be the perfect example for others, but remember that you are pretty amazing just the way you are. You do not have to meet anyone else's expectations to be worthy of love and respect. You are very beautiful in uniqueness, and you light up the world by simply being present. So celebrate who you are today and appreciate the fact that you are so much more than enough.
With love
Your fellow elder sister on this self-acceptance journey
Hridya.