Therapists have identified a pervasive challenge particularly troubling for eldest daughters: an overwhelming sense of over-responsibility, which significantly affects their happiness and well-being. Drawing on both recent research and extensive professional experience, mental health experts now describe “eldest daughter syndrome”—a set of expectations and pressures uniquely experienced by firstborn girls—as a major factor in their long-term mental health outcomes. The concept strikes a chord with many, resonating powerfully within Thai families, where cultural traditions often reinforce the burdens shouldered by eldest children.
The discovery is significant for Thai society, where family structure and filial duties are highly valued, and eldest daughters frequently serve as the emotional backbone for their families. According to therapists, eldest daughters are not only expected to care for their younger siblings but also often take on parental tasks, organize family gatherings, and manage countless “invisible” duties required to keep households running smoothly. These cumulative obligations, particularly when imposed from a young age, lead to perfectionism, self-criticism, and, ultimately, burn-out.
A recent study highlighted by therapists indicates that firstborn daughters mature faster than their siblings, partly due to stress experienced by their mothers during pregnancy (yahoo.com). This early maturation comes with far-reaching consequences: eldest daughters frequently become “parentified”—that is, expected to act as mini-adults—and internalize an unending need to be “the one no one has to worry about.”
Licensed marriage and family therapists explain that this over-responsibility does not just remain within the family sphere but often extends into other areas of life. These individuals feel compelled to take charge at work, in their own homes, and among their friends as well. As one therapist put it, “They have to always be the one to make sure that everything gets done and that everybody’s getting their work done on time.” This pattern can be especially pronounced in environments like Thailand, where both cultural and societal gender expectations reinforce caregiving roles for women, and eldest daughters receive a “double dose” of responsibility.
The psychological toll is considerable. Taking on adult responsibilities when still a child breeds feelings of inadequacy, as children are literally not equipped to perform these roles successfully. As explained by another therapist, “[When] we put adult responsibilities on children, they’re going to feel like they’re failing because they literally aren’t equipped to do the thing.” The failure to live up to these unrealistic standards creates cycles of self-criticism and the constant drive to try harder, chasing an ever-elusive sense of accomplishment.
Eldest daughter syndrome is exacerbated by societal expectations regarding gender roles. In many families, especially within heterosexual parental dynamics, eldest daughters are implicitly or explicitly expected to compensate for less-involved fathers, forming a coalition with the mother to “run” the family. This arrangement can rob daughters of childhood experiences, as they are pushed into patterns of perfectionism, all-consuming self-criticism, and the mistaken belief that their worth lies in being perpetually dependable.
Therapists emphasize that these patterns persist into adulthood—long after siblings have left home or family obligations have shifted. Most eldest daughters, often unconsciously, continue to take on disproportionate responsibility, serving as “the friend everyone can count on, but no one’s there for you.” When this sense of responsibility becomes too much, it results in emotional burn-out, anxiety, depressive symptoms, and deep-set feelings of guilt or failure when unable to complete every task.
For Thai readers, these findings resonate with many local customs and family practices. In Thailand, traditions such as taking care of younger siblings, overseeing household rituals, and supporting parents in old age are frequently assigned to the eldest daughter. While these values foster family harmony and filial piety, they can also unintentionally reinforce unattainable standards and prevent eldest daughters from prioritizing self-care. The phenomenon is visible in the lived experiences of many Thai women, who describe feeling trapped by family obligations and societal expectations to always put others first. According to an education official in Bangkok, many teachers and school counselors have observed eldest daughters taking on extra academic and extracurricular burdens to “set an example,” with anxiety and stress often the inevitable result.
Addressing these issues, experts advocate several practical steps. The first is recognizing and becoming consciously aware of this “eldest daughter” role. Therapists recommend reflective practices such as journaling or counseling to explore family dynamics and discern which aspects of these responsibilities are harmful versus helpful. Setting boundaries is crucial—a process which might involve sharing family planning duties, asking siblings to contribute financially or emotionally, or simply declining requests that overload personal capacity. For those who find saying no difficult, mental health professionals encourage self-compassion: permitting mistakes, relinquishing unnecessary guilt, and cultivating joyful, childlike experiences that may have been missed growing up.
Inner-child work, which therapists widely endorse, encourages eldest daughters to “give themselves” experiences denied to them in childhood. For example, if family obligations prevented going to a friend’s birthday party or swimming pool, making the conscious choice to do so in adulthood becomes a form of self-healing. This approach not only nurtures resilience but also helps disrupt cycles of rigid perfectionism.
Mental health experts also recommend seeking out support beyond the family system, building friendships and networks where mutual care and vulnerability are possible. For eldest daughters in Thailand, who may be wary of burdening parents or younger siblings, community groups—such as women’s circles, faith-based organizations, or mental health support clubs—can be invaluable.
Importantly, therapists point out that the urge toward perfectionism—believing “If I’m not hard on myself, I’m not safe”—is a relic of childhood that no longer serves eldest daughters in adulthood. Healing involves opening to kindness toward oneself, setting reasonable expectations, and allowing for rest and imperfection. As summed up by a leading somatic therapist, “We’re going to have the same day no matter what. But if we can be kinder to ourselves through it, then at the end of the day we’re not as miserable, we’re less fatigued.”
Looking forward, increasing awareness and discussion of “eldest daughter syndrome’’ in Thai media, families, and workplaces has the potential to reduce stigma and support positive change. Schools and mental health providers can support eldest daughters by acknowledging these often-invisible burdens and creating intervention programs tailored to familial roles within Thai culture. Campaigns encouraging parents to share duties more equitably among siblings, and reminding families that delegation is a form of love, could reshape deep-rooted social norms.
For now, the most actionable step for Thai readers—especially for eldest daughters and the families who love them—is to reflect on the hidden costs of over-responsibility. Families can engage in open conversations about expectations and redistribute chores and emotional support more fairly. Eldest daughters themselves are encouraged to set gentle boundaries, prioritize their own well-being, and seek community within and beyond the family. By breaking the cycle of perfectionism and over-responsibility, eldest daughters can reclaim not only their happiness, but also balance and joy in every stage of life.
For further reading and expert advice, consult the original HuffPost article through Yahoo (yahoo.com) and explore resources on psychological well-being from the Thai Department of Mental Health (dmh.go.th).