The eldest daughters are about to POP OFF.

Journal style entry on eldest daughter dynamics, faith and life. X

Note: This post was written fairly quickly. It is meant to be an emotional, raw, journal style piece— not a well rehearsed think piece. This is much more my style. Have I perfected my argument? No. Read it as a journal entry. Enjoy!

I just have this feeling that eldest daughters everywhere are realising how much life they’ve given to trying to be too perfect in too many ways.

I have a feeling that many eldest daughters around the world are about to start dreamy businesses and loosen their grips and maybe even get a little lip filler.

You know?

Before I go on I want to clarify that you can resonate with the ‘eldest daughter’ dynamics even if you aren’t one. I have a few friends who are the youngest daughters but have always behaved like the oldest. I also have friends who are only children, who can resonate too.

I also want to clarify that I do not believe in over-identifying with things like being the eldest daughter. Our generation is so hungry for validation about why we do what we do and why we are who we are but we have to be careful not to let that become victimhood (obviously some people have been through gnarly stuff and are true victims but you know what I mean— not everyone is).

I also want to clarify that when I talk about being the eldest daughter and the burdens that have come with it for me personally, I am in no way blaming my parents for any of it. The eldest daughter dynamic is part of nature. We can come from a very loving family and still experience the natural effects of being the first born daughter. My mum did nothing intentionally to ever place burden on me and has always loved me unconditionally, supported any and every endeavour of mine even when it’s meant she needed to sell cars or put laptops on lay-by, and she has never, ever put pressure on me to live anywhere, or do anything. She has been an incredible mother to me and has truly lived by the principle that you have children to give them life.

I have witnessed other people I know be emotionally manipulated by their mothers, but this hasn’t been the case for me. The eldest daughter dynamics that have felt burdensome for me are the natural result of being the eldest daughter, four children, a home without a father, and evident financial and other stresses on my mother. It is only natural for one of the children to want to fill a role that was never meant for a child to fill.

I also want to add while I’m on it that I love my dad and that he has always been a part of our lives— especially mine. He never lived with us. Mum still struggled financially and raised us on her own. But that doesn’t mean he was not a father figure in my life. I have a dad and I love him.We saw him for every Christmas, birthday, Easter, Fathers day. He drove me to soccer training when the trains got too gnarly, he helped me when I moved to Melbourne as a 20 year old and has helped me get me out of some dumb trouble (like getting a car towed). He’s always been there if I have needed him, and he even threatened a boyfriend of mine after he laid hands on me once which to be honest, I love. My dad is pretty gangster. A rugby player and a unionist from Queensland who let me assure you, takes no s*** from anyone.

My mum is very similar. A heart of gold and the most selfless human I’ve ever known but also— she won’t pretend she likes you if she doesn’t and she doesn’t care if you like her. I told her this morning that I wrote this and she said “Yep! Don’t care!”

Gimme some of that, please! (Love her so much).

Anyway. I just wanted to add that in because my journey isn’t one of blame, it’s one of recognising the dynamics in me, and deciding which need to change. It’s about slowly learning which parts of my life are being lived from the worried little girl in me— the girl terrified of what it would mean about her if she failed, terrified of what it would mean for her loved ones if she was not always striving, terrified of what would happen if she was not on guard 24/7, scanning every possible scenario and trying to ensure that every risk had been contemplated.

The suffering of her loved ones is what the eldest daughter lives to avoid.

But in the process, she doesn’t really live.

This is what many eldest daughters are waking up to.

We are hyper-vigilant, organised, hyper-capable, dependable, reliable and always ten steps ahead of everything and everyone. But because of this, we analyse every decision, every calling, every choice with such precision to ensure that nothing could come out of left field and hurt us, or hurt someone we love. We live in the illusion that we can control. We have relied so intensely on our own abilities to prepare, to plan, to care, to initiate, to provide, that we find it very hard to leave any of it up to anyone else. Not our husbands, not our parents, not even God.

I won’t even try to pretend that I find it easy to surrender to God. I mean, I try. Of course I try. I don’t actually believe I rule the world or that I am in control of it all.

But a part of me operates as if I do.

If I can scan every possible threat.

If I can plan for every possible surprise.

If I can mentally rehearse the worst…

Then I can prevent suffering. Pain. For me and for them.

But there comes a point where we just can’t do it anymore. Something pops. It’s either a big pop or a slow gentle one.

Funny thing is, I even try to get ahead of the curve and ask God for a gentle pop. LOL

Lord, lead me gently to the truth, I pray.

But it has happened for me gently. Slowly.

I am realising things all over the place and being given opportunities to bust out of crooked, tiring paradigms in my own head.

What really accelerates it is when you start reading about other eldest daughters… hearing your own quirks in others can help you see… and free yourself.

Do you also take forever to make decisions about what to order at dinner?

I do. Well, sometimes I do.

This is why I share with you.

Lately I have been thinking a lot about how these eldest daughter dynamics in myself affect my faith, my decision making, my wellness pursuits, my creative process. It affects it all.

I’ve been thinking a lot about this new age — Jesus pipeline. I’ve been thinking about the phenomenon itself but also the process in me.

Firstly, I believe it is a very genuine and timely pattern— that truth seekers are finding their way to Christ. The world is wonky and evil is loud and so people are being shaken of all that is false and thrust towards what is true. There is no doubt in my mind that turning towards Christ is what the world needs and I have felt an indescribable change in my own life since reorienting towards His light three years ago.

What is also true is that the way of Christ and the way of religion aren’t always the same.

My mum is a woman of faith, who no longer practises Catholicism because of the many hypocrisies she experienced in that church (she was born out of wedlock in the 1950’s so you can imagine the kind of judgement she received). This morning she said to me— “it’s religious people that ruin religion”.

Obviously that a generalisation but we all know what she means. It’s true.

The people that cling more tightly to their rules and righteousness than they do to the first two commandments. Those who want to tick boxes and guarantee a place in heaven but are happy to do the bare minimum.

Bare minimum people give me the ick.

We all know that there are people out there who don’t prescribe to a certain faith who live more like Jesus than some who do.

I noticed in myself how much peace I found in resting in religion because it gave me this sense that if I just do this I will get it right.

All the eldest daughter wants is to get it right.

Get it right by her family.

Get it right by God.

I have often said to Erik upon making big decisions— ‘I just want to get it right by God. Whatever is right by God, I’m good with.’

This was also at the centre of my spiritual explorations before Christ. By the way, if you’re wondering, I don’t in any way throw all that out. I believe that some of it lines up with the freedom that Christ wants for us. I’m still in these exploration of what ‘Living in the Kingdom’ now on Earth really means.

Lately I have been examining this in myself. I have been asking myself where I have been looking for certainty instead of walking the very uncomfortable path of true faith. I have been asking myself where I have been so desperately wanting God to just show me the way so that I can be absolved of the responsibility of getting it wrong.

I have noticed too, that since coming to Christ I have gained so much life— living water kind of life. But in embracing some religious ideas, I have lost some air. Temporarily and unnecessarily.

I have written before about the wrestle between self sacrifice and self expression. What is truly means to die to yourself. I have, in the pursuit of truth, shut down all of my desires and heck, even some of my agency in the pursuit for doing the right thing by God.

Since turning to Christ from the Wild Wild West of universal spirituality (I think a lot of it was actually very valuable and important, in case you’re wondering!), I have let myself really wriggle and wrestle for myself. One thing about me is that I let myself really go places. I don’t tread lightly, I do big bombies. I see for myself.

Then I write about it.

I have had times where I looked more to cultural christianity than I have spent time nurturing my own intimate relationship with Christ and Truth.

This is not the way. But it’s a part of this journey, this wrestle, this wriggle. It’s a part of it. I want you to know this if you are in it right now. Please don’t expect to have it perfect, please don’t assume others are doing it more perfectly than you. Read St Teresa of Avila and you’ll that even this incredible religious woman who devoted her entire life to Christ, has so much doubt about herself, so many questions and wrestles with God her entire life. It’s not just you and it’s not just me.

I have learned that so long as my heart is oriented correctly, towards the living water that is Christ, that He will not drop me.

I have often looked beside me and seen christian sisters of mine, be so much more bold and devout than me.

Instantly I tell myself I must be doing something wrong.

The eldest daughter in me feels right at home here— “You aren’t doing it RIGHT!”

I am learning that, that isn’t always the case.

I am learning that I can trust my own relationship with Christ.

I am learning that Jesus himself hated religion and that religious people were who nailed Him to that cross.

I am learning that my intuition is God speaking to me in real time and cutting through even the voices of cultural christianity. I have learned that my discernment can be trusted, should be trusted and that it is very dangerous for a woman to silence this part of herself. God knows this. He didn’t create intuition as a speed dial for nothing.

I am learning where I have sought comfort in rules, rather than the discomfort of faith. Because rules are comfortable but faith is not. Faith requires you to leap, to trust, to surrender to the fact that no, you are not in control, but that Someone who loves you is. This does not happen overnight for an eldest daughter. There is a worthiness issue too— Someone really loves me as much as I love others?

I have wanted to explore Orthodoxy and Catholicism and hey, I’m not saying I won’t. Ritual and liturgy still remains a powerful way to connect to Truth. Not to mention the beauty. Oh the beauty. But where Christ has me right now, where my loving Father has me right now is somewhere else— in learning true faith, not the check-the-box kind.

God, the living Father who created me knows this better about me than anyone else— I do not need another religion. I have been clinging to ‘religions’ my entire life— wellness religions, moral religions, integrity that is so rock solid that it sometimes squeezes the life from me.

I do not need another religion.

I need life.

I need breath.

I need joy.

The spiritual growth I need right now is not to ‘get things more right’, it is to trust that I am safe to get things wrong, that I am loved even when I do, and that the people I love are held by my Father and not just by me.

When I turn to God, to the freeing love of Christ, I do not see them standing with big flashing lights, ushering me towards cultural religion.

My father knows that as (heavily) flawed as I am, that I want nothing, if not to do right by Him.

But I also want to live.

I want to love without fearing the worst.

I want to feel worthy of joy that doesn’t come with a 10 page risk assessment.

And I know God wants that for me too.

The eldest doesn’t need more constriction,

She needs more joy.

She needs more true faith— not the box checking kind of faith, but the true, intimate walk with a Father who loves her, the Christ that wants to breathe life into her.

She also needs renewed faith in herself and that she knows what she truly wants. Eldest daughters will know that there is often a mugginess around this— she thinks she knows what she wants, but really she wants what is going to be good for everyone. Do not get me wrong— selflessness is a virtue, but losing yourself completely is not.

I believe God wants us to know ourselves and who he created us to be— the uniqueness laced in our soul and the desires that make our heart beat a little faster.

The oppressive religious spirit wants to spank that all out of us. The eldest daughter has to be on guard for this— where her desire to do right, will be hijacked not by God but by other, less loving things.

I am someone who has always walked to the beat of my own drum. I have always felt loyal to the truth and the source of it (to the best of my ability at the time).

People would say to me when I was younger:

You’re really going for that phD?

You’re really building that business? (In a climate and a time where it was not yet cool or applauded).

You’re just moving to the USA? Just like that?

You’re birthing your first baby at home? You sure? You’ve never done it before!

I have been very free in ways but also very bound in others.

I notice in myself where I have made up rules for myself that aren’t as important as they need to be (and don’t come from God).

I’ve noticed where I’ve made sure to be the best-in-class at whatever it is I do.

I’ve noticed where I think that my success, and even my salvation will come so long as I get it all right.

I’ve noticed that constantly seeking (illusory) safety means constantly running from that carefree joy I want.

But it’s the eldest daughters turn.

Mark my words, eldest daughters everywhere are reading each others posts and having ‘uh huh moments’ and they’re healing. Eldest daughters everywhere are about to pop off.

You know what I want for the eldest daughters?

I want you to really start to live.

I want you to taste that carefree joy without feeling it needs a 10 page risk assessment.

I want you to unclinch your fists and realise that high standards does not mean no life.

I want you to do the things you secretly want to do, but don’t do because you’ve made it mean something about who you are— get a little lip filler, tell the truth about what you want, have a cocktail without letting it mean anything, drop the wellness religion, let yourself walk towards true faith and not the box checking kind, go on some unhinged rants and then throw your phone under the bean bag and bake a cake, watch a movie after 6pm without your blue blockers, care about being hot, dye your hair, learn that you cannot live others lives for them and that you free them when you stop trying.

Let the eldest daughters live.

Eldest daughters will be like ‘I needed this’ and all it is is watching a movie at night without her blue blockers. This is our kind of recklessness.

Somewhere along the way we decided that joy must not be for us. That to be loved means to give that up. That all the best things must be anti-God. But God is the one who gave us life and He wants us to live it— not breathe shallowly for it’s entirety.

There comes a point where the eldest daughter realises that the only thing worse than all her worst fears coming true, is spending her whole life thinking about them and making sure they don’t.

One day she says ‘enough’. God is right there breathing life into us reminding us…

“Do not be afraid.”

“Do not be afraid.”

“Do not be afraid.”

Love to you all, eldest daughter or not.

Pk XX