I have a dilemma.
It’s called « The Oldest Daughter Dilemma. »
My happiness vs. theirs.
My dreams vs. their expectations.
Should I do the thing that makes me feel alive,
even if it makes them disappointed?
Should I chase my own joy,
if it means they’ll look at me like I failed them?
But then—
then I’m upset that they’re upset.
And because I’m upset that they’re upset,
I get more upset.
And because I get more upset that they’re upset,
they get upset that I’m upset that they’re upset.
And suddenly, I’m drowning in a sea of upset
where no one is really happy,
but somehow, I’m still the one who has to fix it.
And in order to fix it,
to keep the peace,
I make a trade.
I shrink.
I fold myself into the version of me they can love.
I swallow my dreams like bitter pills
so that they can smile,
so that they can say, « Look, that’s our daughter. »
So that they can be happy.
And I tell myself:
« Maybe their happiness is enough. »
« Maybe I don’t need my own. »
« Maybe this is just how love works. »
But love shouldn’t feel like a debt.
And I shouldn’t have to disappear
so that others can feel whole.
People pleaser.
Eldest daughter.
Same thing, right?