Carrying the Weight of Legacy: The Mental Health Toll on First-Gen Daughters
Darlene Adusei
Instructor’s Introduction
Darlene Adusei wrote this op-ed for WR 120: To Be Black in The West. In this first-year writing seminar, students examine African diasporic identities and their broader impact in Western cultures through literature, film, and new media. Drawing on historical narratives, scholarly work, digital media content, and visual art, we explore how race intersects with gender, class, age and other aspects of identity to shape experiences of selfhood in the Americas and Western Europe.
For their final project, I asked students to compose an op-ed pitched to an online magazine of their choosing. Students were encouraged to use the frameworks developed throughout the semester to explore questions of identity, community, and belonging, addressing a timely, urgent topic they were personally invested in.
Darlene’s essay does exactly that. She traces the particular pressures carried by eldest daughters of immigrant families with candor and precision. The prophesied career paths, the community’s gaze, the quiet erosion of self that may accompany a lifetime of meeting other people’s expectations—Darlene speaks to all of this in a voice that is distinctly her own. Drawing on both research and her own experience growing up in a Ghanaian immigrant household, Darlene makes a compelling case for why mental health across the diaspora can no longer be treated as a taboo subject. Her essay is a strong model of the op-ed genre: personal without being self-indulgent, argumentative without being abrasive, and urgent while tackling some of the timeless, existential themes.
Karina Sembe
From the Writer
While conversations surrounding mental health have become more normalized in our generation, there is still a significant gap when it comes to addressing the unspoken emotional burdens carried by first-generation children of immigrant families, particularly eldest daughters. Though they are often celebrated as beacons of success, their internal struggles with identity, pressure, and self-worth frequently remain unseen.
However, bringing these experiences to light requires far more than surface-level acknowledgment. To truly support first-generation daughters, we must examine how cultural expectations, family dynamics, and societal definitions of success intersect to shape their lived realities. This essay explores these complexities through a personal lens, reflecting on my own experiences as the eldest daughter of Ghanaian immigrants while pressing for more open dialogue and mental health awareness within immigrant communities.
Carrying the Weight of Legacy: The Mental Health Toll on First-Gen Daughters
Being the firstborn child of immigrant parents is already challenging enough. However, first-generation daughters carry a silent burden of responsibility and obligation, often at the expense of our well-being, which can lead to profound mental strain and an ongoing crisis of identity.
Since childhood, my family members have called me “Doctor D,” prophesying, in a way, what they hoped would become of my future. I’d even dress up as a surgeon for costume day in elementary school. It didn’t help that the costume’s ID was conveniently labeled “Dr. D.” My grandmother would joke around with me, claiming that she’d make me her doctor in the future to help with her diabetes; she’d trust nobody more than her own family. So, naturally, I’ve always told myself that I wanted to be a doctor and pursue a career in medicine at Columbia University.
For many immigrant families, success means something specific: medicine, law, or other highly esteemed (and well-paying!) professions. The expectation that children will pursue these careers is ingrained from a young age, and for many of us, the desire to meet this expectation overrules the freedom to explore our passions or define success on our own terms.
“Are you the eldest daughter, or are you normal?” Popularized by the media, this meme captures a reality I know all too well. As the eldest daughter of Ghanaian immigrants, I’ve come to realize that being the firstborn child of immigrant parents carries burdens that are often unseen and largely brushed off, especially when it comes to the mental health of first-generation daughters. On the outside, it may seem as though everything is going well. After all, there should be nothing to complain about: you’re achieving success, acting as a “trailblazer” and a role model to your siblings, and making your community and parents proud. Beneath the surface, though, there is a struggle with identity, a constant tug-of-war between the expectations others have for you and the person you wish to become. Few people truly understand the internal toll it takes on you. Laysha Macedo, a first-generation Mexican-American woman, explains this internal warfare perfectly. According to HipLatina, Macedo writes, “Often, being the oldest AND first generation coincides with being the first in everything. The first to navigate higher education, the first to obtain a degree, and the first to address taboo subjects like mental health.” With this power, eldest daughters should speak out to address these “taboo subjects” as Macedo says and work to start conversations and break the silence that often surrounds the mental and emotional struggles we face.
The weight of these obligations doesn’t just affect mental well-being but also distorts one’s sense of self. Growing up in a tight-knit Ghanaian community, where few people break through with “traditional” definitions of success, the pressure is compounded. On the one hand, the community’s expectations and interest in your success can motivate and push you toward achievements you may not have been able to attain otherwise. However, when the community elevates you based on their hopes and dreams, the challenge becomes learning to distinguish between what is expected of you and what you want out of life. The sense of responsibility can create a strong drive to succeed, but it also blurs the lines between outside and personal desires.
This is where the “Eldest Daughter syndrome” comes into play. Research and empirical evidence suggest that anxiety is prevalent in firstborn daughters due to their elevated feelings of duty and perfectionism cravings. In “Understanding ‘Eldest Daughter Syndrome,’” Deshna Chatterjee writes: “Eldest daughters frequently endure elevated stress and anxiety levels on an emotional level. Their troubles may become internalized due to pressure to live up to high familial standards, which can lead to feelings of inadequacy and self-criticism. Research suggests that eldest girls could have anxiety disorders and depression at higher rates than their siblings” (as cited in Bigelow et. al. 2016). The theory of birth order has much to do with this dynamic. While birth order theory recognizes that first-borns are often more achievement-oriented and responsible, these qualities can be magnified when cultural and familial expectations are added to the mix, especially in the context of immigration. The eldest daughter thus carries the weight of not only her ambitions but also the hopes and dreams of her parents, making her journey uniquely complicated.
In today’s world, where mental health is finally being recognized as an essential part of well-being, we need to address the toll that these pressures take on immigrant children, particularly first-born daughters. I’m still trying to unmask myself—discovering who I am, what I want, and how to live a life that is truly mine. I realized that even my choosing to pursue Biomedical Engineering in college was an attempt at satisfying my parents. While I’ve been interested in robotics and medicine since the 5th grade, the added expectations from my parents feel as though subconsciously, I’m pursuing this to please them.
While sons may also carry the burden of family expectations, daughters often have the additional weight of fulfilling cultural roles, whether it’s being a caretaker of younger siblings, the person who helps financially in the family, or even the emotional anchor when times get tough. Daughters are not just expected to achieve; they’re expected to thrive for the entire family. For Jessica Plonchak (LCSW, MBA, LCADC), the Executive Clinical Director at ChoicePoint Health, being the eldest daughter means guilt trips and a prevailing feeling of being insufficient. In her own life, she noticed that this early conditioning led to people-pleasing tendencies. She claims, “As the eldest daughter, I am always looking for ways to make sure that my parents’ needs are put above mine, no matter what emotional turmoil I am going through myself.” No matter how much you achieve, the bar always rises. And if you don’t succeed in attaining what your community knows you can, it isn’t just a personal failure, but now you’ve let everyone down collectively.
This process has been difficult, but necessary, and is why I am speaking out now. Authentic self-discovery starts by rejecting the notion that our value is defined solely by the expectations of others. By setting boundaries and learning to prioritize our own needs, we can reclaim our sense of self. By sharing my experience, I hope to start a larger conversation about the need for greater understanding and support for immigrant children, particularly the daughters who often bear the brunt of the blow. Our well-being can no longer be sacrificed in silence.
Works Cited
Chatterjee, Deshna. (2024). Understanding ‘Eldest Daughter Syndrome’. SSRN Electronic Journal. 10.2139/ssrn.4832693.
Kendra Cherry, MSEd. “How Does Birth Order Shape Your Personality?” Verywell Mind, Verywell Mind, 22 Jan. 2024, www.verywellmind.com/how-does-birth-order-shape-your-personality-8431968#toc-first-born-child.
Macedo, Laysha July. “How Being the Eldest Daughter in a Latino Family Affects Mental Health.” HipLatina, 5 Jan. 2024, hiplatina.com/eldest-daughters-latino-families/.
Darlene Adusei, the eldest daughter of Ghanaian immigrants, writes from a reflective perspective about identity, family expectations, and mental health. As a sophomore pursuing a path in Biomedical Engineering, she examines how much of her journey has been influenced by her own passions versus the expectations placed on her. Her writing piece focuses on the emotional and psychological toll of being a first-generation eldest daughter, and she advocates for open conversations about mental health in immigrant communities so others, especially daughters like herself, can reclaim their sense of self and define success on their own terms. Her thanks go to her WR 120 professor, Karina Sembe, for her encouragement and timely feedback, and to the Boston University writing program for providing a safe environment for self-expression.