As the youngest of five siblings and the only daughter, I often found myself navigating a complicated family dynamic. My brothers were significantly older, with the next one being nearly ten years my senior. After my parents divorced when I was just eight, family loyalties were strained, and I became the emotional bridge among relatives. Everyone leaned on me to maintain harmony during family gatherings, while my mother designated me as the primary caretaker of our household, responsible for chores like cooking, cleaning, and laundry. She even took the allowance my father provided me as her gas money.
I was never allowed to express anger or make mistakes, and bad grades were simply unacceptable. Instead of being treated as a child, I was expected to act like a miniature adult. While I received praise for being “mature for my age,” my mental health suffered greatly; I battled severe depression and self-harm during my teenage years.
Throughout those difficult years, I was the one holding everything together—planning funerals for grandparents, listening to family grievances, and sometimes being a literal punching bag for my mom. I was made to feel responsible for her social isolation and her unhappiness.
Eventually, I decided I needed to move out. With little money saved—thanks to my mother’s financial grasp—I asked my father if I could live with him. He welcomed me, but it wasn’t long before I realized I was still expected to contribute significantly. My brothers hoped I would help clean up the house, which my father had neglected, despite the fact that my older brother had lived there rent-free. I soon found myself taking over cooking duties once again.
After graduating, I moved abroad for several years, finally living independently. When I returned to the States, my husband and I needed temporary housing while we searched for jobs and a place of our own. My father agreed to let us stay, but it quickly became apparent that he expected me to take care of him permanently. After long shifts at work, he thought I should prepare dinner for him, even though he had been home all day and had not lifted a finger. He even mentioned that he envisioned us living with him for the next seven years. I had to clarify that was not our plan.
As if that wasn’t enough, he began charging us rent, despite my brother having lived there for years without paying a dime. Before we left, my father handed me a bill for everything I “owed” him during my stay, including a charge for a box of items he had sent me while I was abroad. It was gut-wrenching to be treated like a burden rather than his daughter.
My mother, too, made it clear that she resented me, expressing that she had more children in hopes of having a daughter to rely on. She envisioned me caring for her indefinitely, all while continuing her emotional and physical abuse.
In family discussions about her long-term care, she openly expressed her disdain for me, blaming me for not fulfilling my “duty.” She repeatedly stated her willingness to move into assisted living to spare my brother any inconvenience, reinforcing the expectation that I should be the one to sacrifice.
While I wish my family’s situation was unique, it highlights a broader issue: women are often unfairly expected to take on caregiving roles, especially for aging parents. Research indicates that when siblings are involved, men tend to contribute less if they have sisters, while women with brothers shoulder more responsibility.
The solution is clear: caregiving responsibilities should be shared more evenly among siblings. When each person contributes a small part, it can prevent the burnout that often falls on one individual, particularly women who often juggle caregiving for children alongside their parents.
Despite being the youngest, I was still made to shoulder these burdens, with the narrative often being that “girls excel at emotional tasks” or “mom loves her daughters most.” While my brothers were also affected by our mother’s abusive behavior, I was left without any siblings to lean on during those formative years.
The question I frequently hear, “Who will care for you when you are older?” makes me cringe. It reflects the flawed mindset that children should be born solely to serve parental needs. This kind of thinking perpetuates the cycle I grew up in. Parents should nurture their children rather than expect them to bear the weight of responsibility.
Having spent a lifetime caring for others, I find it difficult to envision dedicating my future to raising children. I am still learning that my worth is not solely tied to being “useful” and that my needs are just as important as anyone else’s. Sometimes, it’s okay to allow others to care for me.
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Search Queries:
- how to share caregiving among siblings
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- daughters as primary caregivers
- impact of parental expectations on daughters
- navigating family dynamics in caregiving
In summary, we need to recognize the pressures placed on daughters to become caregivers and work towards a more equitable distribution of responsibilities among siblings. Acknowledging the emotional toll this expectation takes on women is crucial for fostering healthier family dynamics and ensuring that everyone’s needs are met.