Lately, I’ve been reading Much Ado About Nada, a beautiful novel inspired by Persuasion by Jane Austen set in the GTA. As a Greater Toronto therapist working with second-generation clients, I loved how Jalaluddin captured the cultural nuances of our city and, more importantly, the experience of growing up between two worlds. But what struck me most was how the book portrayed a struggle I see in my practice every day: the tension between honouring our parents and honouring ourselves.
We meet Nada, a young woman with a rebellious streak who, at her core, is devoted to her family. She struggles going against her parents’ wishes, not because she lacks courage, but because she wants to honour them. She doesn’t want to bring shame to her family. This means studying engineering, a career she has no interest in, pushing herself through difficult courses and stressful exams because it makes her parents proud. For many of us who are second gen, this feels familiar. We know our parents experienced financial precarity when they immigrated, and financial stability became the ultimate measure of success and safety.
The male lead’s journey mirrors this in its own way. A path has been laid out for him…taking over the family business, with room space or opportunity to discover what he wanted for himself. Even when his parents believe they’re being “flexible,” he still feels caged by the expectations with no real options. Neither character truly knows what they want. Not because they lack dreams, but because asking yourself what you want wasn’t a question that was encouraged, let alone acted on.
There’s a line in the book that stayed with me. Jalaluddin describes the siblings through one simple observation: one is depressed, another is restless, and Nada herself is stuck. They all follow their parents’ rules when it comes to career choices, who to marry, living at home, being “good children”—because that’s what’s expected. They do everything to make their parents happy… yet the parents are not happier. And the children? They are quietly miserable.
This isn’t about blaming anyone, least of all our parents, who often acted from love, protection, and the best intentions. But best intentions can still have unintended impacts. And living your life solely to make others happy rarely leads to genuine fulfilment for ourselves.
Like Nada, many second-generation adults feel stuck. Sometimes because of fear. Sometimes because of duty. Sometimes because we’ve never been taught to tune into our own needs. And when the cost of honouring your family is losing touch with yourself, the heaviness that follows—frustration, resentment, anxiety, even depression—can feel overwhelming.
As second gen, we often confuse honouring our parents with sacrificing who we are or what we want for ourselves. We make ourselves smaller without realizing it. Over time, we may forget what we want, what we need, and how to listen to the quiet signals from our bodies and emotions. But those needs don’t disappear. They wait, patiently, for us to notice them. To take them seriously.
The truth is, our parents’ sacrifices were made so that we could have choices. Yet in the process of honouring them, it can be hard to figure out how to make our own choices.
Do you ever feel like you’re living a life someone else designed for you?
If Nada’s story felt like your own, you’re not alone. This is why I work with second-gen clients. Many second-gen people carry this weight, the push and pull between two cultures, between duty and desire, between who we are and who we think we should be.
Therapy can help you navigate this, not by choosing between your family and yourself, but by learning to honour both. You deserve to live a life that feels true to you, while still valuing where you come from.
That’s exactly why I’ve been creating a guide specifically for second-gen individuals. We’ve learned so many skills growing up that helped us navigate two worlds, but sometimes those same skills keep us stuck. This guide will help you recognize which patterns are still serving you and which ones are holding you back, so you can start trusting yourself, listening to your needs, and building a life that honours both your family and yourself.
Stay tuned—I’ll be sharing more about this soon.
Ready to explore what this could look like for you?Book a free consultation and let’s talk about how therapy can support you in finding your own path forward.
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