Perfectionism vs. The Eldest Daughter

Like Tyson v Paul but even more toxic

Nov 18, 2024

Hey y’all,

I just got back home from LA with my partner, where we had two goals to accomplish: 1) find a neighborhood we’d both like to move to (difficult), and 2) eat at Chef Tayo’s Nigerian-Italian supper club (easy). Check and check.

The entire weekend was honestly centered around the dinner. Set atop the sparkling Hollywood Hills in an afro-bohemian bungalow mansion that screamed CREATIVES LIVE HERE—the vibes were right, and we were surrounded by beautiful Black people to boot. The meal itself went crazy. We had five courses, and each came with a wine pairing from Black-owned South African wine brand, Ibest, and a personal story from Chef Tayo on his creative thinking behind each Italian-Nigerian blended dish.

I’m Nigerian and I’ve lived in Italy, so this experience was pretty much made for me. And baby, it didn’t disappoint. The dishes were all served family style, which encouraged conversation between guests, meaning new friends! My favorite dish was the fried fufu gnocchi with braised oxtail. The moment everyone sunk their teeth into this dish?! All you heard was silence and then intermittent wows and oh my god—the flavors and concept were unreal.

I find it both hilarious and genius that his first meal in this country was Italian, and he somehow dreamt up this entire experience from the notion that the two cuisines are very similar. I’ve never seen the throughline until now. No matter where you go, there you are.

While Chef Tayo just held his last dinner in LA, he is off to NYC for the next iteration! If you’re in the area, make sure to grab your seat.

This Week’s Story

When I tell you this story had me nodding my head in agreement so fervently that my wig almost slid off? As a fellow eldest daughter, this week’s story from author Patience Tinotenda Mutsetse (so many Nigerian writers lately!) was singing my whole life with her words. The “eldest daughter syndrome,” as it’s currently known, has almost become an official disorder in itself as eldest daughters around the globe share the same sentiment of feeling crippling anxiety, burnout, and unhealthy relationships stemmed from the weight of perfectionism. Let’s just say I be in therapy over this stuff. Even if you’re not an eldest daughter, I hope you enjoy this one!

Take care,

Anayo Awuzie
EIC of Carefree Media

Shaped By Perfectionism: My Battle Against The ‘Eldest Daughter Syndrome’

by Patience Tinotenda Mutsetse

I always thought that perfectionism and femininity were birds of the same feather, but in my journey of ‘becoming her,’ I realized that perfectionism is not entirely intrinsic to femininity. Through the process of learning and unlearning the traits that impeded my personal growth, I’ve discovered that being perfect is a socially constructed idea, one that affected my mental health and personal and professional development.

I've always been the girl who hated a nearly invisible stain on her shirt and tiny creases on her skirt. I remember how I would tear out whole pages from my books if I spoiled my work or if I felt like I had written the wrong answers. It always took the introvert in me not to pick a fight with people who stained my white socks on my way to school. I have always strived to be that perfect girl.

As a young girl growing up in an African home, I was taught to never make mistakes. The society that nurtured me never afforded me a chance to be human. Living by the book and being noble had to be my utmost priority. I constantly felt the need to fit in with the image of a well-groomed young girl who was raised by a respectable family. And being the eldest daughter in my family aggravated the situation.

I had unrealistic expectations to meet and a strict lifestyle to live by. Being my mother and father’s pride and joy meant that I had to set an example for my younger sibling. During an internship, I related with other first-born colleagues about how people like us should never take our first shots in life lightly because there is no room for second chances.

When I was in the first grade, after writing my first exams l took the 10^th position and my parents were really dissatisfied with my results, l was scolded and later encouraged to work for the first position henceforth. From that moment, I always diligently worked for the first position in class and whenever l got the second or third position, I would be extremely frustrated and disappointed with myself. This has been one of the contributing factor to my challenge with processing failure and celebrating small wins.

This self-frustration grew worse in high school. My father would always be on my case for failing to get an A in mathematics, a subject he is extremely good at. In the process of trying to prove to my father that I could actually get that A (which I eventually got on a final exam), I became obsessed. From then on, I never wanted to know how it felt to fail. I continued to excel, the only mediocre grade I received was a pass I got in my final year due to my lecturer forgetting to record one of my assignments. That small mistake agitated me to no end, asI felt it ruined all of my efforts to get distinctions and merits in my courses during my four years in college.

At home, I was constantly compared to other family members for being a well-disciplined, smart, and hard-working young girl, which led to me feeling pressured to live up to those standards in the different social groups I found myself in. I certainly outdid myself in fulfilling my responsibilities in the neighbourhood, at church, and at school. I became too attached to approval and being praised for being a “good girl"—obsessed with ticking all the boxes of being "perfect.”

While continuing on this quest for perfection, I, unsurprisingly, began battling with insomnia and anxiety, two disorders I'm still battling with. In most instances, I would sleep for less than 3 hours; you could still find me glued to my notebook upon waking. It seemed nearly impossible to ever feel like I had studied enough to pass my exams. I also struggled with anxiety in my personal relationships. My perfectionism has created a neverending cycle of emotional exhaustion, overthinking, and difficulty maintaining healthy relationships.

In my career, it takes me longer to complete tasks because I have a high bar for the quality of work I do. This behaviour stems from a newly realized obsessive-compulsive disorder, making it even harder for me to get help with my work because I need it to be done in a very particular manner that I deem as neat.

Until I entered my 20’s, it never dawned on me that my perfectionism had slowly developed into a personality affecting my mental wellbeing. It had a way of clasping my liberty and the ability to be myself. I only began to question my behavior after taking mental health classes for my social work degree. I had deeper conversations with myself about behaviors I considered innate, and I started to learn about the concept of nature vs. nurture.

This behavioral pattern developed after losing my mother at age 10, and this personality style is heavily dependent on socialization—the cultural norms and values internalized through life experiences, and modeling the behavior of those who are deemed “perfect” by societal standards. There are hidden links between my perfectionism and being the eldest daughter in my family. Becoming mindful of this has helped me embark on a gradual process of unlearning the behaviors I’ve internalized from my childhood.

The problem with perfectionism is that if it goes unchecked, it can become extremely toxic to your wellbeing and the people around you. The societal pressure to become a perfect elder daughter has constantly triggered feelings of inadequacy, distress, burnout, anxiety, and post-traumatic stress disorder.

In most cases, you become self-sabotaging, judgmental, and controlling. Growing up, I thought I was overprotective with my little sister, but I later discovered how controlling I was becoming. I was extremely nosey over her affairs—I wanted to know who she was chatting with and what they were talking about because I wanted to make decisions on her behalf. I realized my concerns about her possibly making the wrong decisions were starting to take a toll on our relationship. I was dictating the way she should handle her life in a way that fit more in line with my idea of a perfect life than hers.

Dealing with perfectionism as the eldest daughter has been mentally taxing and physically exhausting. But I am grateful for the journey of growing and glowing I have embarked on. Thanks to learning more through books, ministry from Pastor Sarah Jake Roberts, and podcasts like To My Sisters, with my favorite online sisters Courtney and Renee. They are powerful voices in my life, and listening to them has been therapeutic, to say the least. I’ve realized that as much as I can blame other people for my behavior, I also need to take accountability for myself. I have now made a conscious decision to invest in my 20s by showing up for myself through nurturing positive behaviors and working on the negative ones with grace.

Through Sarah Jake Roberts, I've begun to understand how important vulnerability is. The beauty of vulnerability is that it shakes the walls of perfectionism and allows me to always show up as my most authentic self. I am starting to understand that my fears, doubts, worries, mistakes, scars, and poor decisions should never restrain my journey of ‘becoming her.’ It is honest, not perfect, and that’s quite okay.

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