Being the eldest daughter means being born with extra responsibility. At a young age, I was to rock my baby sister to sleep, to change her diapers, to watch over her.

And when my dad frequently work out of the state, I took over the role of a protector unknowingly. My mother went through a tough time, and I have watched her cried, comforted her, sang sad songs with her throughout.

Growing up being the eldest daughter in a traditional Asian family had molded me into who I am today. I look resilient, I take over care roles. I take up responsibility. And in many different circumstances, I am always ready to help.

Unfortunately nobody including me knew that it was a recipe for disaster. No matter how difficult things get, I put on a strong front: because I was, and still am an eldest daughter. Even more, I am now a mother with two children to protect, a doctor whom not only patients depend on, but also one whom nurses and other colleagues should be able to look up to.

Appearing resilient has its pros and cons. One, you’re always the first to know about bad news. The cons? Even if the bad news is supposed to affect you significantly, no one really thought about you: but rather other person who is equally affected. “Don’t let them know incase they are upset, but we need you to build a pyramid in 3 days no matter what.”

This scenario has played over and over again throughout my life. And everytime, I’m left feeling extremely invisible. Does anyone see my pain? Or does it not matter?

I guess that was how I slowly spiraled into severe depression. It wasn’t just hormones. And it definitely wasn’t just work load. It’s a multitude of things from the beginning of my story. It’s many and many people involved, some who are oblivious but some who genuinely wanted to push my buttons. But it was also me.

It was me who allow myself to be swallowed in unnecessary responsibilities. It was me who was unable to say “No”. It was me who put everyone else before my own precious self. And it was me, who made myself a doormat.

And time after time of reflecting, I still repeat the same curse. And time after time again, I feel like I don’t matter. I’m invisible, because I was strong.