The Tightrope: Navigating Cultural Expectations and Mental Health as an Asian American Woman

The Fundamental Tension: Cultural Acrobatics

How many times have you thought you don’t want to open up about something in your life because you don’t want to be a “burden” to the person who can, in theory, support you through tough times in life? This is often something that comes up in my practice with AANHPI women who are accustomed to taking care of others but not being taken care of.

Why are our needs a “burden” to others? For many of us growing up in Asian American families, cultural expectations get communicated starting very early in childhood. Are any of these expectations familiar to you?

• Academic and career excellence ("Get all As” and Be a doctor, lawyer, or engineer")

• Prioritizing family needs above personal desires (“Don’t be selfish”)

• Maintaining family reputation and "saving face" (“Don’t embarrass us” and “Don’t tell other people about our family”)

• Respecting authority without question

• Practicing emotional restraint ("Don't complain" or "Don't burden others with your problems")

• Following specific paths for marriage and family formation

To be clear, these expectations aren't inherently harmful. A lot of these expectations are rooted in values that emphasize community, respect, and responsibility. When I think critically about mainstream American cultural norms, the over-emphasis on individualism strikes me as just as toxic as the belief that we should always put our own needs aside for others. What I’ve observed is that when cultural expectations are rigidly applied or get internalized as the only path to acceptance and worthiness, they can lead to significant psychological consequences. What happens when academic and career excellence come at the cost of personal happiness and fulfillment? Imagine you go to law school as your parents wished, only to find that the career is a poor fit for your interests and personality. What happens when you grow up in a family that suggests your needs must always be secondary to those of others? Imagine you’re in a serious romantic relationship but you don’t have the capacity to recognize and express your own needs from your partner but your true feelings come out in passive aggression and silent resentment. What if protecting your family’s reputation means you’re not allowed to disclose being abused by a family member? Imagine the pain of harboring the secret of a trauma that deeply hurt you but you feel compelled to not embarrass your family by telling others the truth of your lived experience. Maybe you don’t have to imagine these scenarios because you’re living through one or more of them. You’re certainly not alone. Many of us are dealing with similar issues.

What complicates the cultural expectations from family/community is the broader context in which we grow up. Asian American women grow up in an American mainstream culture that is often at odds with the expectations at home, which can cause a lot of confusion about making the right decision and who a person really is. Am I the good, filial daughter? Or am I the person I am with my friends? Are there parts of ourselves we have to hide from our families because we can’t tolerate their disapproval? In an Asian American psychology class, I remember a quote from a study that went something like this — “No matter what I do, I am wrong. I’m either not doing the American thing right or not doing the Asian thing right.” In this “damned if we do and damned if we don’t” position, we can feel lost, depressed, anxious, scared. We can feel profoundly alone.

We’re Walking on a Tightrope

Let's talk about some common mental health consequences that develop with AANHPI women.

Anxiety that rarely quiets down. When perfection is the only acceptable standard, your internal alarm system stays on high alert. One client described it as "feeling like I'm performing even when I'm alone in my room." The pressure to achieve isn't just about making your family proud—it often feels like your entire worth as a person depends on it. This anxiety is often accompanied by self-imposed ideas about productivity and when that level of productivity is not super high, feelings of guilt and inadequacy.

Confusion about who you really are. To navigate cultural differences within and outside the family, people might adapt by having different "versions" of themselves. My friends and I have talked about how we’re often masking when we’re with others and feeling confused about what we want or need when we’re alone. Moreover, Many Asian American women describe feeling "not Asian enough" in some contexts and "not American enough" in others, creating a sense of not belonging in many spheres of life.

Depression that creeps in slowly. When you've spent years prioritizing others' expectations over your own needs and desires, you may not know what brings you joy and meaning or you may have lost touch with those parts of your life. Also, the gap between expectations and reality can trigger feelings of worthlessness or hopelessness, especially when achievements that would be celebrated in mainstream American culture are considered inadequate within Asian families.

Body disconnection. Many clients describe being "in their heads" a lot of the time, disconnected from physical sensations and emotions. When you're taught that expressing feelings is "dramatic" or "burdensome," you might learn to ignore your body's signals altogether.

Relationship struggles. If you grew up believing your needs shouldn't be voiced, how do you suddenly know how to express your needs in adult relationships? I see many highly accomplished Asian American women who can manage complex work projects but freeze when asked a simple question like, "What do you want?" in their personal relationships.

Get Off That Tightrope, Girl

You’re not working for Shen Yun, so get off that tightrope. Let yourself fall, by which I mean, you can’t be all things to everyone and the moment you accept that is the moment you move towards freedom. I want to share some approaches that can help you move forward. I’m relieved to leave the tightrope metaphor behind because I’ve taken it as far as it can go.

1. Get Curious About Your Values (Not Just Your Family's)

When was the last time you asked yourself: "What do I actually believe in? What matters to me?"

For example, you might value family closeness but need to redefine it as "maintaining loving connections while having appropriate boundaries" rather than "being available 24/7 and sacrificing all personal needs."

This isn't about rejecting your cultural heritage. It's about consciously choosing which aspects nurture rather than diminish you.

Reflection exercise: Take a piece of paper and make two columns. In one column, list the values you were raised with. In the other, write which ones genuinely resonate with you, which ones you question, and which ones you want to redefine on your own terms.

2. Practice Small Acts of Authenticity

Practice leaning into what you really want. Start with something small like ordering what you actually want at restaurants instead of what someone else wants to have with you. Another helpful practice is to say "I need to think about that" instead of automatically saying yes to requests from family, friends, partners, and colleagues.

These are small steps, but they're powerful exercises in connecting with your authentic self. Each time you honor your true preferences—even in seemingly insignificant moments—you strengthen your ability to live as yourself.

3. Find Your People

Do you have people in your life who see and accept the you for who you are? Not the "good daughter" version or the "successful professional" version, but all the complicated, contradictory parts of you?

Many Asian American women describe feeling a profound relief when they connect with others who understand the specific cultural tensions they navigate. This might be through friendship, community groups, or therapy with someone who gets the nuances of your experience.

Being understood, heard, seen can help us feel less alone in the bicultural challenges we experience.

4. Redefine Success on Your Terms

What would success look like if you defined it for yourself? Would it include measures of happiness, meaningful relationships, creative expression, or contribution to causes you care about?

I've worked with Asian American women who were successful by every external measure but still felt unhappy or without purpose. Sometimes healing begins when you start developing your own metrics for a life well-lived.

Ask yourself: "When I'm 80 years old looking back on my life, what will have mattered most to me?" This perspective can help clarify which expectations are worth honoring and which might need reconsideration or modification.

5. Set Boundaries with Compassion

Setting boundaries doesn't mean cutting people off or being disrespectful to your loved ones. It means being clear about what works for you while acknowledging the care that often underlies even the most frustrating family dynamics.

Instead of "I can't talk to you when you criticize my career choices," try "I know you want the best for me, and I value your wisdom. I need us to talk about my career in a way that feels supportive to me."

This approach honors the relationship while still protecting your wellbeing. It's about finding the middle path between rigid defiance and complete submission.

6. Integrate Rather Than Masking

You’re a bicultural superstar and you can embrace that for the gift and privilege that it actually is.

Rather than feeling torn between cultures, work toward developing bicultural flexibility, which is the ability to draw from both Asian and American cultural toolkits, depending on the context.

How Professional Support Can Help

If you're struggling with these tensions and finding it hard to navigate them on your own, therapy with a culturally responsive mental health professional can make a world of difference. I've seen how powerful it can be when Asian American women work with someone who understands the specific cultural dynamics at play.

Look for a therapist who:

• Understands the nuances of navigating multiple cultural identities

• Won't pathologize your family dynamics without understanding their cultural context

• Can help you find solutions that honor both your cultural heritage and your individual needs

• Creates space for you to express feelings that might have been discouraged in your family of origin

Moving Forward: A Continuous Journey

Finding your balance between cultural expectations and personal wellbeing isn't a destination you reach once and for all. It's more like learning to dance—sometimes graceful, sometimes stumbling, but always in motion and in response to what’s happening around you.

There will be days when you feel confident in your choices and others when old doubts creep in. There will be family gatherings where you navigate difficult dynamics with new skills, and others where you regress into old patterns. This is normal and human.

What matters is that you're developing a stronger connection to your authentic self, learning to honor both your cultural heritage and your unique personhood. You don't have to reject your roots to grow in new directions.

Remember that taking care of your own mental health isn't selfish. It's essential. When you honor your own needs and boundaries, you actually become more capable of meaningful connection with others, including your family.