Tag: healing

Auspices

MissMLeave a comment

Being the eldest daughter comes with a lot of unique challenges. They even have a name for it: “Oldest Daughter Syndrome.” This widespread phenomenon is a hot topic on the TikTok nowadays, and there seems to be a decent amount of data to support its existence. According to Charlie Health, common symptoms of this condition include:

  • Having a strong sense of responsibility – Check
  • Feeling a need for control – Check
  • Carrying the heavy weight of parents’ expectations – Check
  • Perfectionism – Undeniable
  • Struggling with same-age relationships – Absolutely
  • Feeling resentment towards family (parents or siblings) – We can get into this later
  • Always putting others before themselves – Affirmative
  • People pleasing behaviors – Obviously
  • Anxiety – Triple-medicated, baby

I think that the eldest child is the most likely to take the brunt of generational trauma. Think about it – your parents were brand new at being parents, and often had no business being parents at all yet. They were carrying all sorts of unresolved trauma of their own and were never equipped with the tools to heal. Even worse, they likely weren’t even aware that they had trauma that needed healing. So here these young parents are, doing their damn best to morph you into a respectable member of society with their own parents’ methods as their guiding light.

If you haven’t gathered already, I’m an Eldest Daughter. And yes, parts of that experience super sucked. My parents’ expectations evolved drastically with each daughter they had, and I felt slighted when my sisters were allowed to stay out as late as they wanted on weekends and didn’t have to go to church. I didn’t realize at the time that my parents were evolving as whole people, so of course their parenting approach changed.

I’ve grown up a lot, and time and distance have changed my perspective on how my parents raised me for the better. We have a special bond – there was a time when it was just the 3 of us. My parents didn’t even know each other very well when they had me, and they somehow formed a partnership strong enough to guide their little girl all the way to adulthood. And honestly, they did alright.

My dad said a few words at my wedding that I’ll never forget: “Thank you for your patience with us.”

He meant thank you for understanding that though we don’t always get it right, we’re doing the best that we can. Thank you for realizing that we’re learning right alongside you, and we carry all of those lessons into parenting your siblings. Thank you for being strong-headed, yet always doing your best to meet our expectations. You’re not just a guinea pig, and your childhood wasn’t simply a “practice run” for your sisters.

Mom, Dad, I love you so much. I’m honored and grateful to be your first daughter, even with the syndromic outcomes that accompany this dutiful role. Thank you for molding me into the beautiful, flawed, complicated woman I am today. And thank YOU for your patience with me every time I defied, disrespected, and disregarded you. I know better now.

-M.

Remedial

MissM1 Comment

I recently became a volunteer advocate at the Rape Recovery Center, a local nonprofit that provides counseling services, a crisis hotline, and hospital teams for survivors of sexual violence. In order to become an advocate, one must complete a 40-hour intensive training program. I’m at the midpoint of my training now, and while my experience so far has been one of empowerment, solidarity, and fulfillment, it’s also forced me to re-examine and really process (for the first time) my own rape.

I’ve come to realize that due to many contributing factors, I have yet to take the time to really process what happened to me, and how it’s impacted me physically, cognitively, and spiritually even now, a few years after the fact.

My initial response was one of damage control. Immediately after regaining control of my body, I sped to a pharmacy to pick up a plan-B pill, inquired a private feminist Facebook group that I was a member of about STI testing, and took the proper steps to ensure that my perpetrator would not be able to contact me again.

A member of the aforementioned Facebook group took it upon his (or her)self to notify my father of what happened to me. This member screen-shotted my original post about inquiring about STI testing, and emailed it to my father, which gave me more damage to control.

I’ve been floating around from day to day, somewhat numb, ever since. I’ve always been kind of a distant person, but since this occurred, I’ve been even more withdrawn, even less in-touch with my emotions and my ability to connect with people, especially men.

A guy that I’m not personally friends with DM’d me on Facebook the other day, and asked me if I was a rape victim.  I responded in the affirmative, and he proceeded to tell me that I’m so much stronger, and my spirit is more alive since I was raped.

I found this response both appalling and offensive, for a handful of reasons. First of all, this man does not know me. He didn’t know me before the rape, and he doesn’t know me now. How, then, can he feel confident in making such a statement? Furthermore, I was strong before this happened to me. Nobody needs to experience sexual violence in order to become strong. I had the strength to cope with this trauma before it even occurred, and I refuse to credit this incidence for giving me any such thing.

As for my “spirit being more alive,” I have felt quite the opposite. This incidence swiftly changed me into the cynical, numb person you all know and love today. I struggle with my emotionality every day of my life. I don’t know how to connect with people. I don’t even know how to process my own emotions without enduring a full-fledged panic attack. My sense of security has been breached, and I’ve realized that there are infinitely many things that are completely out of my control.

The man who made these comments did so with good intent. However, he does not know my experience, and therefore should refrain from telling me what it did to me. Perhaps I’m over-reacting, but I don’t feel like anyone is qualified to make such bold statements about an incident that had such a severe impact on my life except for myself.

Anyway, I am sincerely honored and excited to become an advocate in my community, and hopefully be the support that I so desperately needed when this happened to me. It’s going to be triggering, difficult, exhausting work, but I feel like taking it on will be a healing experience for me, overall. It will, however, force me to rely on others for support when the burnout inevitably hits, and discouragement sets in.

So I’d like to thank my amazing support system in advance, for helping me through this.

M.