Brown Eldest Daughter Syndrome: Carrying Expectations Since Birth

Let me just say this loud and clear for the people in the back: being the eldest daughter in a brown household is not a personality trait—it's a full-time job with no paycheck, no holidays, and no sick leave. Add in academic pressure, a global pandemic, and a slow-burning identity crisis, and you've got yourself a coming-of-age story no one asked for.

Growing up, I had high expectations placed on me by others and myself. And for a while, that pressure motivated me. I wasn’t top of the class or anything, but I understood what I was doing. I even managed to write a working code for my Computer Science coursework that tracked train seat availability, group discounts, and daily earnings like a proper little ticketing system. Not to brag, but that thing had logic, math, AND real-world application.

Then… COVID happened.

Online classes started, and my brain did the academic equivalent of Ctrl+Alt+Delete. Every time the teacher said something, I felt like I was being personally attacked by my own confusion and the dodgy Wi-Fi. Coding? Who’s she? Logic? Never met her. Maths? A jump scare.

I went from “I got this” to “What even is a for loop?” faster than you can say "log kya kahenge?" (What will people say?)

📚 The Pressure Wasn’t Just Academic

See, the thing about being the eldest daughter in a brown family is… you’re never just a student. You’re also a babysitter, an unpaid therapist, an emotional buffer, and most importantly, a“role model.” Not just for your siblings, but for literally every younger cousin in the WhatsApp family group chat.

And when you're constantly being told that you're the example, the standard, the firstborn hope, there's only one way to really stay in everyone’s good books: be excellent. Especially in school.

Because somewhere along the way, your grades stop being just grades. They become your identity. Your value. Your entire personality.

So when I started falling behind, it wasn’t just about bad grades. It felt like I was losing the one thing that made me valuable in my family’s eyes. Academic success had been my only real currency, and suddenly, I was bankrupt.

😵‍💫 So… What Now?

Here’s what I’ve learned (after many breakdowns, some dramatic walks, and convincing myself that one bad exam isn’t the end of the world):

1. Your grades do not define your worth. Repeat that until it no longer sounds fake.
2. It’s okay to mourn your past self. Especially the one who genuinely enjoyed learning before burnout hit like a freight train.
3. You are more than your output. Even if your culture tries to convince you otherwise.
4. There is no such thing as the “perfect child.” (Unless your cousin’s med school admission letter is now framed in your house. Then… good luck.)

💛 Final Thoughts

If you’ve ever felt like your self-worth is tied to your GPA, or that the best version of you got left behind in a pre-COVID classroom, I want you to know that YOU ARE NOT ALONE! Not even close!! And more importantly, you’re allowed to rest. To fall behind. To change paths. To say, “I don’t know what I’m doing,” and still be proud of showing up anyway!

The real flex isn’t a perfect score—it’s reclaiming who you are beyond numbers, rankings, or expectations. It’s rebuilding yourself outside of the pressure.

So talk about it. Message that friend who's also pretending everything's fine on the outside. Cry over that math problem (I definitely did). Then laugh a little, shake it off, and remind yourself:

Even if you’re not doing great academically right now, you’re still doing just fine!

Coming from your older sister (in spirit, if not in age):


You are more than enough, even without the 100/100 ❤️