A Love Letter to Every Woman Who Chose to Breathe- By Neha Singla
You know that moment when your phone lights up with a family group text, and your stomach tightens just a bit? Or when a weekend visit home leaves you more exhausted than rested? If yes, then this blog is for you.
If you’re a daughter, especially in a culture that glorifies sacrifice and obedience, let me tell you one thing upfront:
You are not selfish for healing.
You are not a bad daughter for wanting space.
Let’s say it louder for the women in the back: Setting boundaries doesn’t mean you love them less. It means you finally started loving yourself too.
The ‘Good Girl’ Programming
From a very young age, many of us were given a role to play:
- The well-behaved one.
- The peacemaker.
- The “mature beyond her years” little girl who was praised for never complaining.
I had a client once, let’s call her Riya. She was 32, a successful entrepreneur, and yet every time her mother called, she felt this wave of guilt and obligation rise like a tidal wave.
“I don’t even know who I am outside of being her daughter,” she confessed in a session.
Riya was carrying emotional baggage that wasn’t hers to begin with. She had become the shock absorber for all the generational pain, anger, and unspoken trauma.
Healing Isn’t Rebellion. It’s Recovery.
When you start healing, people will say:
- “You’ve changed.”
- “You don’t care about us anymore.”
- “You’ve become distant.”
And in those moments, your inner child will panic.
“Am I being too harsh?” “Should I call again, even though I’m drained?” “Maybe I am the problem.”
But darling, let me give you a reframe:
You are not distancing to punish. You are pausing to protect.
You’re not creating drama. You’re choosing peace.
You’re not rejecting love. You’re finally including yourself in the circle of care.
Common Signs You’re Still Carrying Your Mother’s Emotional Baggage:
- You feel guilty for resting.
- You over-explain yourself constantly.
- You confuse love with obligation.
- You replay old arguments in your head trying to be “better.”
- You feel suffocated around family, even if no one says anything hurtful.
Sound familiar?
It’s because many of us were never taught boundaries. We were taught roles.
Roles like:
- “Be the strong one.”
- “Don’t talk back.”
- “Make them proud.”
And guess what happens when you try to step out of that mold?
You’re labeled dramatic. Difficult. Disrespectful.
The Quiet Burnout of Emotional Labor
One of the most invisible forms of burnout is emotional labor within families. Especially for daughters.
You’re the one everyone vents to. You’re the one who has to keep it together. You’re the one who checks in on everyone else.
But who checks in on you?
I remember working with a woman who was the eldest daughter in a joint family. She had a corporate job, was the emotional anchor for her siblings, and the default caregiver during her mother’s illness.
Her words still ring in my ears:
“I feel like a fridge that everyone opens when they’re hungry. No one ever asks if I’m plugged in.”
Let that sink in.
Your Need for Space Isn’t a Betrayal
When you say:
- “I can’t talk right now.”
- “I need to rest.”
- “That topic is triggering for me.”
…you are not being rude.
You are being real.
You are building emotional walls where there used to be revolving doors.
And the people who benefitted from your lack of boundaries will call it selfish.
But those who truly love you will eventually understand.
Or not.
And you will still choose peace.
A Soft Ritual to Reclaim Your Breath
Here’s something I share with my clients when the guilt gets loud:
Light a candle. Place your hand on your heart. Speak this aloud:
- “I was never meant to carry this alone.”
- “I forgive myself for needing space.”
- “I honor the girl inside me who just wanted air.”
- “I release the shame. I choose softness now.”
Repeat until your body softens. Until the tears turn warm instead of sharp. Until you feel like you’re holding your own hand again.
This is how cycles break.
Gently. Honestly. Bravely.
But What If They Don’t Understand?
Let’s face it. Some families are not emotionally literate.
They won’t ask, “What do you need?” They’ll say, “Why are you being like this?”
They won’t hear, “I need rest.” They’ll hear, “You’re abandoning us.”
It hurts. Deeply.
But healing isn’t about waiting for permission. It’s about giving yourself the grace to evolve.
You Are Not Alone
To every daughter who:
- Picked up emotional pieces she didn’t break
- Grew up too fast
- Couldn’t afford to have breakdowns
- Was everyone’s emotional safety net
This is your permission slip.
To rest. To reset. To reclaim.
Because you cannot be your fullest self in a role that shrinks you.
You deserve relationships that feel like rest, not roles.
Final Words from My Heart to Yours
Sometimes, healing means becoming the first woman in your lineage to say:
“I love you. But I love me too.”
And yes, it will be messy.
But it will be yours.
Healing doesn’t always look like fire and fury. Sometimes it looks like closing the bathroom door, exhaling deeply, and whispering:
“I matter too.”
So to all the daughters learning to breathe again:
You are not bad. You are brave.
And if no one told you today, I’m proud of you.
This blog is inspired by countless real conversations, including my own journey and the brave hearts I’ve worked with. If this touched you, know that healing is not linear, but it is possible.
Let this be a warm corner of your healing path.