Play the Part

shaped by traditions, bound by expectations

Sep 25, 2024

sorry if this was very ramble-y and I may have repeated some points/words, so excuse me for that!! i have a lot on my mind right now, I hope you’ll still enjoy :))

I’m asked what position I got in my class this year. “Third,” I mumble through clenched teeth. They don’t say much, but I know it’ll come up later, whispered when I’m not in the room. My smile tightens, and I fidget with my ring, repeating in my head: Play the Part. Don’t let them see you mess up. Am I not good enough? I wonder if they see breaks in my character, if I’m failing at being the girl they expect.

I wonder how long I can keep playing this part before the audience sees through it; each fake smile and carefully spun lie making me feel sick in the stomach.

In many South Asian households, the need to “perform” becomes an unspoken requirement; a way to gain approval from your family. From an early age, we learn to embody certain roles—overachiever, dutiful daughter—creating a polished version of ourselves to meet certain expectations. This constant act creates a disconnect between our true selves and what we present ouselves as, leaving us feeling isolated and anxious. We hide our struggles with an act of confidence, wondering if we’ll still be accepted if we step off the stage.

Indirect criticism often shows up in the way families compare their children. When someone praises what your cousin got on his maths exam or what competition your sister just won (in a tone that says ‘you should be more like them’), it comes across as a gentle nudge that makes you feel that your own accomplishments don’t hold the same value. These comments aren’t directly rude, but they create a sense of competition that makes us question ourselves: we start to wonder if we’re good enough, feeling like we’re constantly being measured against others. This can be terribly exhausting, leaving us feeling more like performers than ourselves, as we try to live up to expectations that often feel out of reach.

The emotional toll of trying to meet these expectations is burdensome. Every time we think we’ve fallen short, a wave of fear washes over us, making us question if we’re truly good enough. You start to feel like even small mistakes can feel like failures. My friends often ask me why I’m so pressed when I get anything below excellent in my grades, and it’s because of that constant fear of judgement and hunger for familial approval.

The weight of pretending is suffocating. Every time I play the role, I feel myself slipping further away. I wonder if there’s ever a moment where I can just stop, cut the scene.