A letter to the oldest daughter

Today I’m writing from a place that many oldest daughters know well, a place where childhood and responsibility often blur together. For me, growing up in a Hispanic home meant growing up quickly, learning responsibility before rest, and carrying expectations that were rarely spoken but always understood. There were many days where I wished I could simply be happy, and just be a kid. Instead I would often hear, “Maritza, ya lavaste los trastes?”, “Maritza, ya hiciste la comida?”, “Maritza ayudale a tu hermano.” As I write this, my inner child curls into a ball remembering those dreaded words she heard almost every day, or at least it felt that way.

As an adult now, I recognize that there were many responsibilities my younger self did not need to carry. There were days I felt overwhelmed by the many tasks my parents gave me and by the worries they unknowingly placed on my shoulders, burdens that slowly grew into anxiety. The anxiety felt so crippling at times because it felt like I had no control over anything in my life. I felt like I was living to please everyone else around me. Over time, I learned to measure my own value by the amount of tasks I completed, or by how pleased and happy others felt with my accomplishments. Of course, when I felt like I failed at pleasing others, the symptoms of my anxiety would swallow me whole.

There were so many times I would cry in my room and feel defeated by my anxious thoughts. I remember not knowing how to relieve the anxiety. It felt like nothing could help other than grasping at anything to make me feel like I had control. This often looked like obsessive cleaning or trying to fix other people’s problems to avoid looking at my own.

I hope you haven’t stopped reading and I hope this letter isn’t too triggering. I promise it gets better. Life certainly got better for me after going to therapy. I could not be where I am without working on my own wounds and learning how to continue to grow and heal.

What I have come to learn in my healing journey and in my work as a therapist is the importance of extending compassion to those who have wounded us. Of course this can look different for everyone. I realized that my parents weren’t trying to hurt me by putting so much responsibility on my shoulders. They were parenting me the way they learned from their parents and our cultural norms. They were only trying to survive as best as they knew how when they were raising me y mis hermanos traviesos.

Now, I could sit and dwell on the "what ifs" and the "should haves" of my childhood, and keep wondering what life could have been if I was the youngest instead, but that would only create resentment, anxiety, anger, and sadness. Extending compassion to those who have hurt us, intentionally or unintentionally, does not mean we excuse the behavior or that we have to continue to allow the behavior. It means gaining understanding and wisdom of others’ experiences and our own in order to keep moving forward in our healing journey. Extending compassion to my parents is one of the ways that has helped me in my journey of healing and making peace with my role as the oldest daughter. I don’t fear or dread being the oldest daughter anymore. If anything, I view it as a superpower.

Being the oldest daughter has taught me to be a good listener, a leader, more understanding of others, caring, patient, and compassionate. This role helps me in my work as a therapist to be able to provide a safe space to others who may be in need of one. As the oldest daughter, you can certainly count on me to keep a promise and to help you if you get stuck doing your homework or understanding how to fill out an important document.

To the person reading this letter, if you grew up as the oldest daughter or were treated like the oldest daughter, I see you. You are not alone. Just remember, the oldest daughter helps the world run smoother.

About Maritza

Maritza Barajas is a therapist at Desert Insight who is passionate about supporting clients through anxiety, healing, and personal growth. Learn more about Maritza here: https://www.desertinsight.com/maritzabarajas