I’ve been thinking a lot lately about endurance, and how so often it’s seen as a form of virtue. As an Asian woman, I learned very early on that I was expected to be quiet, dutiful, dependable, and capable of carrying responsibility without complaint. I’d work hard, take care of everyone around me, and endured whatever came my way graciously. But the older I got, the more I realized it can actually be harmful to be only known for enduring.
A lot of my teenage years and early adulthood were spent fighting within myself because I felt trapped between two versions of womanhood that constantly seemed at odds. On one side was the expectation of being a virtuous daughter in an Asian household, with all the responsibilities that role carries. On the other side was this college-educated American woman in me who wanted freedom, creativity, ambition, and autonomy. I wanted to make art, travel, build a life for myself, and honestly just do whatever I wanted sometimes. Trying to be both used to eat me up inside because I felt that no matter what choice I made, I felt guilty. If I focused on myself, I felt selfish. If I focused too much on family, I felt like I was holding myself back.
I remember during scholarship interviews in college, there were organizations that didn’t fund me because I seemed “too focused on the home.” They wanted to support women who wanted to go out into the world and do other things. It felt like I was somehow failing both worlds at once. But now that I’m older, I think there should be dignity in either choice. You should have the right to pursue a domestic life if that fulfills you, and you should have the right to pursue a career outside the home.
Over time, I’ve leaned towards not one or the other, but allowing myself the choice to choose fluidly and freely. I’ve been trying to let go of the belief that I am personally responsible for everything that happens within my family. It helps being with my husband Patrick, who encourages me to live loudly and has changed a lot for me. For the first time, I experienced someone who lets me focus on my own happiness. That freedom allows me to explore who I am outside of familial obligation.
I feel sad for my younger self sometimes because I was trying so hard to carry impossible contradictions all at once. I felt guilty if something didn’t go right, but I also felt guilty for enjoying all that life has to offer, since many women in my culture don’t have the same opportunity.
Approaching my forties, I do feel more settled into myself than I ever have before. I’m at a really stable place now, where I can accept myself whether I’m loud or quiet, ambitious or domestic. I feel free to live loudly and know that I’m supported–and every time I’ve chosen to live brightly and truthfully, it’s rewarded me by leading somewhere beautiful. I don’t think strength is found in how much I can endure, but rather in the ability to speak my truth out loud.
Yours truly,
Makara