The Immigrant Daughter's Dilemma

Yukta Parikh
June 21, 2024

“Your new life is going to cost you your old one”

In therapy, I realized that I am stuck. Stuck between the person I want to be and the person I was forced to be due to my trauma.

My previous therapist told me I was self-aware, but that didn’t help me get unstuck. If anything, it kept me stuck with no idea that I could be unstuck. That there could be a world where I don’t have to constantly address my triggers and behaviors without knowing why it was all happening. So if your therapist tells you you’re self-aware, find a new one.

So, how do you get unstuck?

I have no idea yet, but come back to me in a year and I just might have an answer for you. But that’s not what I want to answer today. It’s too big for 600 words, but I do want to think about what it would mean to me to be unstuck.

Being unstuck would mean living the life I was meant to live. It would mean existing in the world as a whole person, not just the shell I’ve been getting by in. It would mean leaving my old life and my old self behind to step into the life and self that I want. It would mean facing my fears and allowing myself to be imperfect. Without worrying about who I’m upsetting or disappointing.

It’s so easy to imagine what that version of me would be like, but it is so much harder to actually do the work.

Breaking cycles is tough work, and part of me hates having to do it. It would be so much easier to fall in line with who I’m supposed to be. Be the perfect daughter, be the perfect student, never make mistakes, always be perfect, and do what others tell me to. I’ve watched other family members fulfill their second-generation immigrant roles, so the question in my mind is why can’t I? But the reality is that trying to be someone else is hard especially because it comes at the cost of who I am.

There was always a tension within myself because the expectations thrust on me were not expectations I would ever be able to reach. Trying to be someone else was crushing me and taking away everything that made me a person. When I finally left my parent’s home, I didn’t know who I was. I was always performing in one way or another. I didn’t know who I was when I wasn’t what everyone else wanted me to be. I was scared of making decisions because at home the wrong decision would have catastrophic results.

But I’m still stuck. I can see the light at the end of the tunnel, but I have a long way to go until I see the sun.

That new life means letting go of the habits and coping mechanisms that got me through the worst of it. Which is terrifying! My coping mechanisms kept me safe my whole life, but it also kept me in a constant state of stress.

How can something that saved me, hurt me? Easily, unfortunately. The same behavior that helped me avoid the next angry blow-up also kept me from creating healthy relationships. The same behavior that kept me from getting disappointed also made me afraid of rejection. The same behavior that made sure I didn’t get slapped across the face, also made me afraid to speak.

In Indian and Desi cultures, therapy isn’t spoken of. My parents rarely asked me how I even felt. Mental health was never discussed in my family, ever. If I told my parents I was in therapy they would ask me what for. Funny because they need it just as much as I do. However, starting therapy was the easiest decision I made. I knew something was wrong, and I hoped things could be better. My current therapist is guiding me to that something better.