it's giving eldest daughter

asking for help in a world where eldest daughter energy is rewarded and hyper-independence is the gold standard

My FYP¹ is littered with “Eldest Daughter” content—from light-hearted memes to licensed therapists giving techniques to recover from parentification. As an actual Eldest Daughter, I can’t say I’m surprised, but like, does the algorithm have to be so obvious about it? My place as the eldest of three girls means that for most of my younger life, necessarily, I know best, and I’m always in charge.

16 year old Eldest Daughter in action.

I experienced quite the epiphany in my late 20s when I looked around and realized that most of my close friends (found family) were also eldest daughters or only children themselves, and those who weren’t exhibited similar qualities of the eldest daughter archetype. The same can be said for my close friend makeup of today. And, I mean… What a delight! What a treat! What a group chat full of opinionated, strong, independent women!

And also, what an education.

Surrounding myself with friends (and not just eldest daughters/only children) and a partner who can be relied upon implicitly for advice, planning, or general savviness has taught me that I don’t actually know best all of the time (three cheers for a gentle serving of humble pie), and I don’t always have to be in charge (your girl should occasionally take a damn nap). There is a distinct and unique feeling as a Type-A, Always-in-Charge Eldest Daughter relinquishing control to another Type-A, Always-in-Charge Person-with-Eldest-Daughter-Energy (who you trust and share values with, of course), and this feeling is a blissful luxury.

The ability to rely on someone else is not necessarily new to me from a resource perspective—I’ve always been surrounded by capable, competent, and creative women. What is new to me is my own ability to turn down the volume of that voice in my head saying you must do this all by yourself on repeat. That internal control freak is still there—she’s hard-wired—but she’s not always the loudest voice in the room anymore.

Front and center alwaysssss.

The characteristic that has stuck with Cassie ‘The Well Actually Kid’ Myatt, First of Her Name, is fierce and unwavering independence. While this can be an admirable in some light, fairy tales (and real life experience) teach us the hard lesson: the heroine sometimes needs support from her merry band of magical misfits in order to slay the evil foe.

The problem is not just internal. There’s this perplexing social stigma on women to ask for help, but they’re expected to successfully do it all. This an impossible task—one that I think every woman is intimately familiar, so much so that every female-identifying friend I know sobbed during America Ferrera’s character’s monologue (yes, that monologue) in Greta Gerwig’s Barbie. Perfectly summarizing the plight of 21st century female experience, she says:

“It is literally impossible to be a woman. You are so beautiful, and so smart, and it kills me that you don't think you're good enough. Like, we have to always be extraordinary, but somehow we're always doing it wrong.

You have to be thin, but not too thin. And you can never say you want to be thin. You have to say you want to be healthy, but also you have to be thin. You have to have money, but you can't ask for money because that's crass. You have to be a boss, but you can't be mean. You have to lead, but you can't squash other people's ideas. You're supposed to love being a mother, but don't talk about your kids all the damn time. You have to be a career woman but also always be looking out for other people. You have to answer for men's bad behavior, which is insane, but if you point that out, you're accused of complaining. You're supposed to stay pretty for men, but not so pretty that you tempt them too much or that you threaten other women because you're supposed to be a part of the sisterhood.

But always stand out and always be grateful. But never forget that the system is rigged. So find a way to acknowledge that but also always be grateful. You have to never get old, never be rude, never show off, never be selfish, never fall down, never fail, never show fear, never get out of line.

It's too hard! It's too contradictory and nobody gives you a medal or says thank you! And it turns out in fact that not only are you doing everything wrong, but also everything is your fault.

I'm just so tired of watching myself and every single other woman tie herself into knots so that people will like us. And if all of that is also true for a doll just representing women, then I don't even know.”

As a thought experiment, what if we all collectively asked for something we really want or need, even if we can do it ourselves? What if we asked for support when we know we can go it alone, but company and encouragement would make it better? What if we leaned on our partner/found family/friends just as we would want each of them to lean on us? And, further, what if we relied on our support system to tell us “no” to a request instead of assuming the answer and never asking the question in the first place? What if we simply internalized that the people in our life want to be present if we would just let them?

I’m incredibly inspired by a handful of my friends who have shown me how to defy these expectations, and they’ve done so with intention and authenticity to who they are. A friend, who is undergoing surgery with a lengthy recovery, asked for coverage for dog walking, food, and trash takeout while they are recovering (the ask came in spreadsheet form—be still my Type A heart). Another friend left a successful career in a toxic industry she’s been in for decades and asked her family for help while she figures out her next step. Another friend is building a beautiful, quirky side hustle and her partner and mom help her run the booths to sell her products. All of these women floor me with their solid connection to what they need and their confidence and trust in their support system to be able to ask for support. That’s ultimately what it is, right? The heart of community is trusting and respecting your people with the intimate knowledge that you want or need help sometimes.

Lately, I’ve made some progress in asking for help from my support system. They are small requests—baby steps in the right direction. I asked my best friend to just listen to me cry-vent² about what I’m overwhelmed about and for permission to not do it all (bonus: she gave me actionable ideas on next steps I can take to mitigate some of the overwhelm). I asked for help in this month’s bookclub meeting—to reschedule and for someone else to host. Nik and I asked my retired dad to spend two weeks puppy/house sitting while we were gallivanting across the UK. All three of these asks felt hard, but all three yielded enthusiastic “okays!” and further comfort in knowing I can rely on my people.

To be absolutely frank, asking for help still makes me extremely uncomfortable—I am conditioned to feel like a “failure” if I ask for help or admit that I can’t do it all, even though both of these things are a given because I am human. I’ll never not be an Eldest Daughter, but I don’t want to subscribe to the toxic aspects of the moniker anymore. I am so used to tying myself into knots, blaming my hyper-independence and Eldest-Daughter-Who-Can-Do-It-with-a-Broken-Heart characteristics, that building a habit of asking for help is completely foreign. But, isn’t letting the guard down, admitting it’s foreign, and doing it anyway exactly what “community as a verb” means?

All I can say is: I’m trying. And, we can always trust an Eldest Daughter to keep trying…

1. “For You Page” as the TikTok generation says.

2. The unique combination of crying and venting—reserved only for the best friend who loves you despite the splotchy red face that can only result from cycling through crying, venting, venting while crying, and crying while venting.