045 eldest arab daughter
In my practice, I’ve worked with many eldest Arab daughters and noticed common themes around responsibility, culture, and identity. Of course, this won’t reflect everyone’s experience, but if it sparks even a moment of reflection, that in itself is meaningful. I’m also an eldest daughter in an Arab immigrant family, so these are themes I’ve seen in my own life as well, so let’s discuss!
In many immigrant families, the eldest daughter grows up holding a unique and often invisible role. She is often positioned between her parents and the society around her, learning early how to navigate multiple cultural expectations at once and how to assimilate into a world that may be very different from the one at home. Being the eldest daughter of immigrants often also means being the quiet third parent, without even having the words to name it.
This experience is shaped by the intersection of Eastern and Western cultural values. Many non-Western cultures emphasize family interconnectedness, shared responsibility, and respect for elders, while Western culture often prioritizes independence and individual expression. The eldest daughter is frequently tasked with balancing both, honoring family needs while adapting to a social environment that encourages autonomy.
Within the family, she may take on emotional and practical responsibilities beyond her age: supporting younger siblings, managing stress within the household, and often acting as a bridge between cultures. In families navigating migration, economic pressures, or resettlement, emotional expression may take a backseat to survival and stability.
This responsibility is rarely named. Instead, it is normalized and sometimes praised: “You’re mature.” “We can rely on you.” While well-intentioned, these messages can reinforce the idea that reliability is valued over emotional presence. Over time, the eldest daughter may learn to prioritize others’ needs over her own.
Living between cultures can create internal tension. Expectations at home may differ from those outside, leaving little space to explore identity without guilt. Many eldest daughters of immigrants appear highly capable while privately experiencing anxiety, burnout, or emotional disconnection. The body often carries this strain through fatigue, tension, or heightened alertness.
Cultural and religious traditions can be sources of strength, meaning, and community, while also shaping expectations around roles and responsibility. The challenge is not culture itself, but the lack of space to reflect, adapt, and integrate these values in ways that support emotional well-being.
Healing often begins with recognition rather than resistance, recognizing the roles that were carried, the skills that were developed, and the cost of growing up quickly. In therapeutic spaces, exploring boundaries, identity, and nervous system regulation can help separate responsibility from self-worth.
This work is not about rejecting family or culture. It is about integration, learning that care for others does not require self-neglect, and that autonomy and connection can coexist.
For many eldest daughters of immigrants, the question eventually becomes not, “Who do I need to be for everyone else?” but, “Who am I allowed to be for myself?”
