Finding Freedom in a Culture of (too much) Togetherness

Urmi Hossain

Growing up in a brown household was tough for me. Day to day things like waking up late, sitting on the sofa, voicing my concerns to elders, and coming home late were all seen as unacceptable. In South Asian families, where collectivism is the norm, it is challenging to maintain individuality, and we often struggle to draw the line between ourselves and others. 

For instance, the concepts of privacy and boundaries are never taught to kids and as a result, we focus on pleasing everyone and catering to others' needs without question. With time, I learned the importance of boundaries and my mental health without feeling shame, guilt, or remorse and walking away when needed. 

Here are four of the lessons I had to unlearn along the way: 

“It’s my responsibility to make everyone happy.” 

In my brown household, my relationship with others, especially my closest family members, was never respectful of boundaries. Being a people pleaser and saying “yes” infinitely to everything was what I learned my whole life. When I was younger, I believed that it was my job to make everyone happy, and their happiness came before mine. If I made a decision for myself, I was considered selfish, cruel, and careless towards others. I was often blamed for making everyone suffer. For instance, wanting to pursue further studies was seen as a waste of time. Although no one said it explicitly, they would ask multiple times, “when will you be done with your studies?”. I still wonder if this would have been different if I were a boy. I was conditioned to believe that it was my responsibility to make everyone around me content and serve their needs more than my own.

“Saying no is not an option.” 

In brown communities, there are numerous events that happen throughout the year, such as weddings, religious and cultural festivals, and invitations to friends' houses. We have one almost every week. When I was younger, I used to attend most of them. However, as I became involved in other commitments, I preferred not to attend some of these events. Every time I said no, I faced emotional consequences. People around me would make me feel awful, saying that it would look bad if I didn't show up. Even if I wanted to spend some time alone, it was challenging to explain that to my family. I was given the option of not going, but then I was convinced and manipulated to say “yes” and dragged to every event. The harsh truth of living in a brown household is that you have to do whatever everyone says, no matter your other commitments, and the idea of “me time” is not recognized. 

“You wear what we choose for you.”

When it came to dressing up, I had no say in what I wore. I had four to five people choosing my outfit for me because I had to look good for the community and not for myself. I didn't have the freedom to choose, and I had to follow through without objections. If I wore an outfit of my choice, I was often asked to change because of what people would say. Sometimes, I was told that it didn't look glamorous or expensive enough. I was often stared at by everyone at home for the outfit I chose because others weren’t happy about it. Even at home, I couldn't wear pajamas or sweatpants all day; I always had to look sharp and well-maintained in traditional outfits, even when we didn't have guests over. 

‘You can’t close your bedroom door.”

Many South Asian people live in crowded households with six or more people. As a result, finding personal space and time can be challenging. When I would come home from school, spending time in my room watching TV was often seen as neglecting house chores. Even wanting to read a book or take a nap could create issues, with people opening the door without knocking and interrupting. As a result, I realised that there was no understanding of physical boundaries and that an "open door" policy was necessary. 

So, what’s changed?

Through these experiences, I learned the importance of setting healthy boundaries and prioritising my own needs. Pleasing others at the cost of my emotional and psychological well-being is not sustainable. As a brown woman, I found my sense of worth in fulfilling others' needs, but this led to toxicity, frustration, and self-neglect. Setting boundaries such as saying "no" to family events was uncomfortable at first, with family members expressing disapproval. But as I showed up for myself and pursued my ambitions, my energy was better distributed towards things that served me.

I learned that it is not my job to be a caretaker or accommodate every person, as it is not my responsibility to fix everything. We can all be cycle breakers and set ourselves free from strict rules and traditions.