Have you been watching The Summer I Turned Pretty? Loving it? Same here.
Sure, the romance has been sweet and nostalgic. But beyond the love triangles, summer flings, and dramatic twists, the show offers something deeper—an honest look at the complexities of mother-daughter relationships.
We see Belly argue with her mom about life choices and boundaries. But what really caught my attention was Taylor. Her relationship with her mother looks different. Less overt conflict, but more resentment simmering underneath.
And that’s because Taylor has been parentified.
Parentification happens when a child takes on adult responsibilities too early—emotionally, practically, or both. In Taylor’s case, her mom put her trust in the wrong people and ended up in serious financial trouble, nearly losing her business.
Taylor had a dream internship lined up in New York. She had a place to stay, plans for her future—and she gave it all up. She stayed behind, used her savings to help her mother, and tried to hold things together. That’s not just being a “good daughter.” That’s parentification.
If you grew up in an immigrant household, especially as the eldest daughter, this story might feel familiar.
Maybe you were the family translator at seven years old. The one who soothed your parent’s stress. The one who stayed calm during the chaos. The one who never got to be “just a kid.”
You may have carried roles that no child should — all while trying to earn love, approval, or stability. You might have felt invisible, unheard, or like your needs were too much.
This kind of upbringing doesn’t just leave you tired. It shapes your entire sense of self
Taylor and her mom also seem to share an enmeshed relationship. This means the emotional boundaries between them are blurred. Their lives are intertwined to the point where Taylor’s autonomy is compromised. Her choices aren’t entirely her own.
We’ve seen this before in pop culture: Gilmore Girls, Desperate Housewives (Susan and her daughter), and Ginny & Georgia. These dynamics are often romanticized—but the emotional toll is real.
For many racialized folks and immigrant families, this dynamic isn’t just normalized—it’s expected. Everyone had to pitch in. Survival came first. And in some cultures, like in many Latinx families, the eldest daughter is often expected to carry more. Cook for the family. Take care of younger siblings. Handle adult responsibilities while still being a child.
Yes, children can have chores and help out. But there’s a difference between learning responsibility and being burdened by it. If the household would fall apart without your efforts, that’s not just helping. That’s parenting.
Being parentified changes you.
Your needs weren’t met. You may not have had room to express your feelings. Maybe no one ever asked how you were doing. And that teaches you, often unconsciously, that your needs aren’t important—or that having needs at all is selfish.
As an adult, this can show up as:
- Hyper-independence – “I have to handle everything myself.”
- Difficulty asking for help – “No one will help, so why bother?”
- Guilt when resting or receiving care – “I don’t deserve this.”
- People-pleasing or over-functioning – “If I don’t keep everyone happy, everything will fall apart.”
- Caretaking instead of connection – You still feel more like a caregiver than a child.
These patterns run deep. And they don’t go away just because you grew up.
Parentification doesn’t exist in isolation. It’s deeply tied to the systems and cultures we live in.
In many immigrant, collectivist, or racialized families, parentification is normalized — even expected. Survival often came before emotional nurturing. Everyone had to contribute.
Add in economic hardship, trauma, or solo parenting, and the pressure intensifies. Not because our parents didn’t love us — but because they were navigating their own survival in an unfamiliar world.
In Latinx culture, for instance, eldest daughters often carry a disproportionate load. They’re expected to help raise siblings, run the home, and protect the family’s reputation — all without complaint.
Understanding this context doesn’t excuse the harm. But it helps us name the pattern with compassion, not just pain. And that’s where healing begins.
It’s okay to hold ambivalence about your parents.
You might think:
- “I love them, but I feel angry.”
- “I feel unseen.”
- “I didn’t get to have a childhood.”
You can love your parents deeply and still feel sad about what you missed. You can be grateful and still recognize that you were asked to carry too much. You’re not ungrateful. You were just overwhelmed.
You can also want connection—and still need boundaries.
We see this with Taylor. During the dress shopping scene with Belly, her mom shows up, and Taylor looks visibly uncomfortable. Her body language says it all. She doesn’t want her mother there. It’s awkward, painful, and familiar for many of us.
The good news? You can begin to unlearn these patterns.
Healing begins when we give ourselves permission to care for the parts of us that were once neglected. Inner child work means allowing yourself to play, rest, feel your emotions, and ask for help—without guilt or shame. Through reparenting, you can begin to offer yourself the care, compassion, and structure you may not have received growing up. Part of this journey also includes setting boundaries. This doesn’t mean cutting off your parents; it means protecting your peace, honouring your needs, and defining what feels safe and respectful for you. And finally, therapy can offer a culturally sensitive and supportive space to unpack these complex dynamics. You don’t have to carry it all alone anymore. You deserve relationships that don’t drain you. You deserve to take up space—not just as the helper, but as your full self.
You’re not selfish. You’re not dramatic.
You were just asked to carry more than any child should.
If this resonates, I invite you to reflect on what roles did I play in my family growing up? Or what do I still carry that doesn’t belong to me?
And if you’re feeling the weight of it all—therapy can help. Whether you’re navigating cultural expectations, healing family wounds, or learning to care for yourself, you don’t have to do it alone.
Let’s talk. I offer culturally sensitive therapy across Ontario, Canada for women and young adults navigating intergenerational wounds, anxiety, and identity in immigrant and racialized communities.
✨ Ready to release what no longer serves you and reclaim your voice?
📩 Book a free consultation today or send me a message. Let’s begin the healing together.
Leave a Reply