Have you ever wondered why Latina women are often seen as the “pillars” of their families — expected to endure hardship silently and put everyone else first?
Think of Abuela from Encanto, the loving grandmother in Coco, or Jane from Jane the Virgin. These characters embody a cultural ideal known as marianismo — a belief system that both empowers and confines Latina women in unique ways.
Often described as the counterpart to machismo (or toxic masculinity), marianismo defines traditional gender roles and expectations for Latina women. It’s built around five main pillars:
- Being devoted to serving family
- Staying pure (modest and chaste)
- Showing respect and obedience
- Self-silencing
- Being deeply spiritual
The last pillar even suggests that women are spiritually and morally superior to men. The term comes from the Virgin Mary — la Virgen — who represents the ideal we’re told to strive for: selfless, quiet, nurturing, and pure.
Marianismo is not new — it’s rooted in colonialism, Catholicism, and patriarchy. When Spanish colonizers imposed religious and cultural systems across Latin America, the Virgin Mary became the model of femininity. Over generations, this ideal was passed down not just by institutions but also by our mothers, grandmothers, tías — often with love, but also with pressure.
We were taught that strength looks like silence. That sacrifice is love. That the more we give, the better women we are.
These beliefs have endured across generations — and across borders. Today, many Latinas in Canada and the U.S. continue to navigate these cultural expectations, often while managing the pressures of immigration, identity, and belonging.
It’s not all bad. There’s beauty in some of what marianismo offers — community, generosity, resilience, and spirituality. For many, these values are grounding, sacred, and deeply tied to cultural identity.
But marianismo becomes a problem when it’s rigid. When choosing yourself makes you feel like you’ve done something wrong. When being tired makes you feel guilty. When your worth is tied to how much you can endure.
I remember the first time I deviated from these pillars. It felt like I had become the villain in my own story.
In novelas — the stories we grow up on — the “good” woman is always the one who suffers in silence. She’s the perfect daughter, the faithful wife. She never complains. She’s close to the priest. She only ever has eyes for one man. She waits. She prays. She endures.
When I dared to want more for myself to rest, to say no, to choose something different, it didn’t feel brave. It felt selfish. Shameful. Because in those stories, only the villain chooses herself.
What happens when you’re raised to believe that your worth is measured by how much you can give, how quiet you can stay, how much you can endure?
That’s the reality for many of us who’ve grown up with marianismo and cultural expectations placed on Latina women. At first glance, it looks like strength — and in some ways, it is. But underneath that strength, there’s often silence. Pressure. Guilt. And a kind of exhaustion that doesn’t go away with sleep.
Recent research shows that certain pillars of marianismo—especially expectations to serve selflessly, remain pure, or silence our own needs—can be linked to higher levels of depression, anxiety, and emotional burnout. Not because we’re broken, but because no one can carry that weight forever.
One large U.S. survey involving over 4,000 Latinx adults with over 4,000 Latinx adults found that women who strongly identified with the expectation to serve and self-silence reported more symptoms of emotional distress. A separate study, revealed that while spirituality and family connections can be protective, self-silencing often leads to loneliness and emotional disconnection.
Here in Canada, immigrant and racialized women — including many Latinas — face similar challenges. We’re more likely to experience anxiety and depression, yet less likely to access culturally informed mental health care due to stigma, language barriers, or lack of services that understand our backgrounds.
In our communities, asking for help can feel like betrayal. Like weakness. Like failure.
But it’s not. It’s survival.
Latina women today are rewriting the script.
We’re honoring our roots without being bound by them. We’re learning that we can love our families and still choose ourselves. That we can be spiritual and still say no. That rest is not failure. That we don’t have to earn our worth through suffering.
And we’re seeing this in pop culture too:
- Isabela Madrigal in Encanto breaks free from her perfect-girl image to discover her own creativity.
- Jane from Jane the Virgin struggles with balancing tradition, independence, motherhood, and her own dreams.
- Even artists like Selena Quintanilla showed us a Latina who embraced ambition, power, softness, and pride in her roots.
We don’t have to be saints.
We don’t have to be martyrs.
We are allowed to be human.
As Mónica Duarte beautifully reminds us:
“Putting your needs first doesn’t make you selfish! It makes you human. You’re not a robot. It’s human nature to have needs and to have them met. You cannot truly be there for others until you start to be there for yourself first.”
We are many. We are tired. And we are learning — slowly, collectively — that choosing yourself is not betrayal, but healing.
Let’s stop calling it selfish when a woman chooses rest. Let’s call it what it really is: a return to herself.
If you’re ready to unlearn guilt and rewrite your story, I offer virtual therapy across Ontario, rooted in cultural understanding and compassion.
Let’s walk this path of healing together.
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