Growing up, the walls of my home were always filled with loud conversation, laughter and love. However, beneath all the layers of joy were the rules and expectations I felt as I grew older.
In my South Asian household, mental health was treated like a dramatic lie. When I expressed feelings or signs of sadness or a lack of motivation, I was told to suck it up with no regard for my mental state. It would happen so often, I started to believe mental health wasn’t important.
I announced my desire to major in psychology during my sophomore year of high school. My family’s reactions showed me just how much they looked down upon the idea. They consistently made their distaste for the major very clear by nagging me toward rethinking my choices and asking me if this was really what I wanted.
They were disappointed because I didn’t want to be a doctor, lawyer or engineer like they hoped I would be. My family thought a degree in psychology was useless and urged me against it. They thought psychology only consisted of sitting in an office listening to people talk about their problems.
My family’s perspective is very similar to other South Asian families; views like oppressive gender roles and patriarchal norms are nothing out of the ordinary. Women are often expected to be self-sacrificing caregivers and the daughters are treated more harshly.
When I started high school, the academic expectations my family had for me changed and I was expected to receive straight A’s. Even when I thought I did well on a test, what was decent to me was not good enough for them, which hit me like a slap in the face because of how different expectations were in the past. I dreaded coming home from school knowing I was not enough for my family. It felt like everything I gave them was taken, chewed up and spit right back at me.
This transition in pressure and expectations led to a major decline in my mental health.
I tried to derive motivation to complete my school work but still got terrible grades. I began to base my self-worth on my transcripts and viewed academic validation as a sign of someone’s love for me.
When I managed to meet my family’s standards, I’d feel relieved that I finally made them happy. But the joy only lasted for a few minutes because I knew the exhaustion I would face to succeed again would not feel as validating.
The validation and approval was such a rare occurrence that I began to feel disinterested and it made me want to work less. I started to feel I was doing it more for them than for myself, and that I didn’t have enough security over my own body and mind. At some point, I decided that if I kept going this way, nothing would change. I would only dig myself deeper into a hole filled with low self-esteem and pity.
This was a feeling I didn’t want anyone to experience, and it only gave me more of an incentive to pursue psychology and to help anyone who was.
Growing up in a household where feelings are avoided and misplaced allowed me to gain self-awareness. I told myself I would never refuse to reach out for help if I needed it, even if my family didn’t accept it. I wanted to explain to my younger siblings that it’s not weak to talk about feelings. Rather, it is a sign of strength.
The lack of understanding from my family forces me to settle more often than usual. I know that if I were to disagree with them, they would assume I intended to argue. If the topic of mental illness or mental health came up, I would be forced to walk on eggshells.
Psychology has always fascinated me, and I’ve come to believe that those who have faced similar struggles are best equipped to guide others. From the start of quarantine during the COVID-19 pandemic, through my junior year of high school in 2022, I struggled to get out of bed, feeling isolated, pessimistic and drained. Even as life slowly returned to “normal,” my depression persisted, leaving me exhausted and finding comfort only in sleep.
I began eating healthier, planning out my day, and following a routine. With time, I became more rooted within myself and this has made me want to pursue psychology as a career and to break the generational South Asian norms.
I have always prided myself on my identity, self-awareness and open-minded nature because it led to my growth. Living in a household with opinions opposite to mine used to feel like I was constantly fighting a war inside my head.
It was a battle of whether I should conform to their beliefs to be validated or stick to what I genuinely believe is right. In some ways, they would even try to use religion to justify their thought process and try to make me believe that their opinions on the traditional norms were the “right” thing.
Knowing my family will most likely remain this way due to their stubborn behavior has increased my passion and incentive to push for better awareness of mental health, especially within South Asian society. Despite the values of my family, I still push toward a psychology degree due to the way I was raised and the toxic environment I grew up in.
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