The impossible balancing act of being a "good" (brown) woman

Image: "Group of Three Girls" / Amrita Sher-Gil

When I was a little girl, I saw my mom move through her days like an unstoppable energizer bunny.

She worked full-time, cleaned, cooked, ran errands, and visited and helped her aging parents (my nana and nani), while also attending to my dad's parents (dada and dhadi) who used to live with us at the time.

On top of that, she was caring for two young kids, and she was only in her early 30s.

My mom's life as a young mother is a blueprint shared by so many of our moms: trying to do everything for their kids, their household, their partner, their parents, and their in-laws while not even thinking about themselves.

When I was young, I didn't clearly understand my mom's reality and how much weight was on her shoulders at all times.

She was constantly dealing with the pressure to do good, and to be a good daughter, wife, mother and daughter-in-law. I don't think she ever thought about how to be good to herself.

The idea of being a "good" girl and a "good" daughter is something I believe is engrained into most brown girls from a young age. We need to be good when we're younger so we can grow up and be good at our careers, good to our partners, good to our in-laws, and good mothers.

That perspective might seem old-school, but it's still quite prevalent in South Asian cultures. As modern as many of our parents and families are today, the importance of having a "good" daughter hasn't diminished.

In the years leading up to getting married, I still remember my dad gently reminding me here and there that I needed to be helpful, and kind, and carry on all the "good" values he and my mom instilled in me when I moved into my new home with my husband and inlaws.

Being "good" to my new family would be a reflection of how I was raised to be "good" by my own family.

It was after getting married, that I've been able to reflect on my mom's reality in a new light.

I also started to realize that being a "good" brown woman, comes as an impossible balancing act that our moms and grandmothers silently took on and accepted, generation after generation.

Before I go on, I need to clarify that my life as a married woman is much different than what my mom experienced. I am in no way trying to say my her balancing act is similar to my life in any way, because I know without question, it's not comparable.

We live in different times now, where expectations and responsibilities have shifted.

My relationship with my in-laws is not tied to the traditional expectations that are often associated with South Asian in-law/ daughter-in-law relationships.

Ever since I became part of their family, they have always treated me as their own daughter, and for that, I feel so grateful.

When my mom was in her early 30s she was also a mother; I am not.

Despite the differences between my mom's reality and mine, I feel the balancing act of being a "good" brown woman still exists, it's just experienced in different ways.

For me, the balance of being "good" is connected to the responsibility I feel to not disappoint anyone around me.

I want to be a good partner, a good daughter-in-law, a good sister, a good friend, a good aunt, all while being a good daughter to my parents. I want to make sure I make people happy, fulfill expectations, and make people proud.

But what no one really tells you about the "good" brown woman balancing act, is that you also fall into the trap of people pleasing.

If we look at the lives of our mothers, we'll notice that they probably lived in a constant state of trying to please others.

My mom lived so much of her life walking the "good" brown woman tightrope, making sure she wasn't leaning too much to one side than the other because if she faltered, she would be a disappointment.

She was taking all those steps on that metaphorical tightrope for others and she never took one step for herself.

As a 31-year-old woman, I've now been lucky to have many conversations with my mom reflecting on her life.

Looking back, she now realizes that she was taking on an impossible balancing act. She's stepped off the tightrope, by choice.

Now she's walking on her own path in life after 58 years, unafraid of the "disappointment" she may cause.

She's also taught me that the "good" brown woman balancing act is unattainable. You'll never be "good" enough for everyone.

But being "good" enough for yourself is good enough.