To The Eldest Daughter Who Grew Up Too Soon
To the eldest daughter who learned responsibility before she learned how to rest, I see you... You were the first experiment. The first child your parents learned to raise. The one expected to understand things before you were old enough to. Somewhere along the way, childhood quietly slipped through your fingers. You became the responsible one. The strong one. The one who should now better. When your siblings cried, you were told to be patient. When things went wrong, you were expected to set the example. And slowly, without anyone noticing, you started carrying weight that was never meant for your shoulders. The pressure to succeed. The responsibility to help the family. The silent expectation to be mature, dependable and understanding. Sometimes, you wonder what it would feel like to just be the daughter - not the helper, not the fixer, not the one everyone relies on. Just the daughter. The truth is being strong for everyone can become a lonely place. But I want you to...