Breaking Free: the "Good Hmong Girl."

I received a post in my private group, from a Hmong sister who was left by the man she devoted herself to for many years. She went on to list all the amazing things about herself–accomplishments, skills, assets that she spent her whole life honing so that she could be the perfect wife and daughter. Both in and outside of the home–personal and professional. And yet, she was here, defeated, exhausted, and at loss on how much more she needed to be, and why she was still not enough to be chosen.

Her words, pained my heart. I could just feel her whole world like it was mine.

Because for the longest time, even as ambitious and achieving as I always was, all I wanted was to become a good Hmong wife, and a good Hmong daughter. 

Even in the progressive, American household I was raised in, somehow, that message still rang in my ears and lingered in my head.

The crazy thing is that I know I’m not alone. And I know that whenever I put out content like this, there will be a chain of criticism saying that we victimize ourselves and we do it to ourselves.

But even after all these generations, Hmong women and girls are still struggling to escape this mindset; these voices, the ones telling us what we amount to, and how our lives should be lived. And if there’s so many of us who can keep relating to the same experiences even generations apart, then isn’t our pain and suffering real? 

There’s nothing wrong about being married, nothing wrong about being a mother. 

But when we put it on a pedestal and strive for it as if all our other achievements and qualities only come as a bonus, then we set ourselves up for a life of heartache and failure. 

To become the perfect daughter and wife, I put myself through so much more than I ever had to. Especially from such a young age that should’ve known so much more play and laughter. I settled for painful and excruciating relationships, just in hopes to meet my milestones one day. I threw everything away about myself just to fit into molds–even living as a lesser version of myself. I lived each day carrying so much guilt and anxiety–jumping between moments that brought me joy to remembering the voices of shame again. I felt sick. Everyday. I was willing to give up dreams, people and things, just to be chosen, and slave away in every aspect of my life, just to wait for someone to validate that I was good enough.   

And my family thought I was going insane. Living in ways they couldn’t understand. But I felt insane, because I thought I was doing everything I was taught to and yet, it still wasn’t enough. 

If being a “good Hmong girl” is an obsession, a disease, then I was sick for many years. I was asleep and running in the hamster wheel of our society until I deteriorated so much that I had enough.  

And when I finally woke up, I ran. 

I woke up when I accepted I was hurting. 

I woke up when I knew I needed help.

I woke up when I knew I needed something different. 

I woke up when I realized that I had been running and exhausting myself my whole life, for all the wrong things, and that’s why it felt like there was never a way out, never an ending. 

I woke up when I knew my mother’s knowledge was not all there was. 

When I realized my parents’ reality was also a limited one.

When I realized it was my turn to discover the next reality, the truths that were more right for me. 

And it took me one decision, to turn my life around. To open the door to a whole new life that I would’ve (and almost) never known.

I decided that I was enough. Even when I wasn’t sure yet. I decided that I would take the chance to believe it and try. 

That even if I’m not married–I am enough.

That even if I do not bear children–I am enough. 

That even if I have tattoos and piercings–I am enough.

And even when I’m out late enjoying my life–I am enough.

That even if my life never goes on the timeline I was told to–I am enough. 

I am enough. Because I decided and believe that I am.

And I will never again be told that I am not. I will never again wait to be chosen. Because the person I needed most, is myself. And I live my life choosing myself everyday. 

And I, along with the many Hmong women who have made it on the other side, hope our lives can be a testament. A testament to those who still have yet to awaken, have yet to choose themselves, their own happiness, owning their worth and stepping into their own truth. That you will be okay. Even when people do not choose you. Even when your parents do not choose you. You will be more than okay. You will be amazing, strong, resilient, multi-faceted, talented, achieving, compassionate, and a fuller version of you than you ever imagined. If you allow it. 

And it will take years of unlearning, of reprogramming yourself, of being honest, and uprooting yourself from the comfort of familiarity and challenging yourself to try something different. So you can live differently and experience life in the way you were meant to.