To raise a daughter is to raise a child for another family, Maxine Hong Kingston explains in her novel The Woman Warrior. Stories of Tiger Parents have run rampant in today’s society, either praising or criticizing them and even going as far as showing research that doesn’t support that this type of parenting raises “prodigy children.” However, not many talk about the parenting that occurs with Asian-American families still deeply rooted in their culture.

In Chinese society, raising a daughter has been deemed worthless; parents spend all their time, money, and effort providing for a child just for her to be married off and subsequently becoming their husband’s family’s “property.” No matter how prevalent this idea is within a family, it definitely results in feelings of self-worthlessness and consequently effects levels of mental health in these daughters – I am one of them.

A video called Have You Eaten? briefly reflects the kind of passivity that I, along with thousands of other Asian-American women have had to endure and the false indifference that we have had to bear. The project features two first-generation Asian-American women who have sat down to eat dinner with their mother. As they remain silent throughout the duration of the meal, their off-screen mothers continuously bombard them with criticisms on everything from their appearance, weight, to sexuality. It’s almost as if they have literally pulled the words straight out of my mother’s mouth.

It seems that nothing I do will ever be enough for my parents – nothing that I do will ever make them happy or proud. I am constantly criticized for everything that doesn’t make me a good daughter. I had to take about a year off from school because the pressure of my mental health combined with the constant mention of disappointment from my family became too much to bear.

I have had to deal with this type of verbal slander from my family every once in a while, but after about 20 years, it begins to add up. The mentally abusive thoughts of me not being a good enough daughter have been drilled into me by repetition to a point where I believed it. I would always be a failure in my parents’ eyes, always getting myself in trouble, and never being able to find a partner who would love and want me.

The hostility became obsessive — my mind eating away at thoughts of worthlessness which eventually caused a decline in my mental health. It didn’t just stop there though. Usually you hear stories about young adults suffering from depression, anxiety, and an alphabet soup of other diagnoses, but their families are there to support them. Mine still have a hard time being sympathetic. Many times have I been told to simply, “don’t think about bad things” or “it’s all in your head” and god do I wish that it were that easy.

I waited over six years to finally reach out and receive help for my self-harming obsessions. I had to wait until I was out of my parents’ house to do so. To this day, they still don’t understand or approve of me seeking psychological help. They don’t even approve of me taking medication or birth control and blame them for throwing my hormones off and making me crazy, but in my perspective, it’s no longer their concern. I’m glad to have taken action towards something that I knew would be helpful for me.

I’m sorry if I have caused you some form of eternal embarrassment, but I am not sorry for the woman that I am today. I am tired of living a life where I am unacceptable by your standards. After years of silence, I have learned to stand up for myself and ask for things that I want. I have empowered myself by learning to shut your abusive words out of my head.

No mom, just because I take birth control doesn’t mean that I’ve been sleeping around.

No mom, if a boy that I like doesn’t like my tattoos, that doesn’t mean that I’ll get them laser removed. They can go fuck off if they don’t like me for who I am.

No mom, I don’t care who sees the scars on my arm.

No mom, I’m not going to get eyelid surgery so that I can finally “look pretty” and become more westernized. I’m not going to laser off my freckles either.

I am worth it, every single bit of it. I deserve to be happy even if that means I have to shatter your unachievable expectations. I can’t be the daughter who sits around and speaks quietly as the world around me progresses.

I am tired of the passivity that I’ve had to endure while being your daughter.