THE role of an elder daughter is filled with love, pride and responsibility. From a young age, she is often seen as a helper, an extra set of hands, and a role model for her younger siblings. But behind the happy face she shows the world, she often carries a hidden load of unseen struggles and dreams of her own that she silently puts on hold.

There is an early expectation for her to be strong, to be a good example, and to take care of others. Her own struggles, worries and exhaustion often happen in secret. Her own dreams frequently take a backseat so that she may become the second mother to her siblings. One moment, she might be playing happily with some toys. In the very next moment, however, she might be expected to act more grown-up. This quick growing up, while making her strong, can also mean her childhood ends too soon, pushing her into adult duties before she is ready.

Financial problems in the family often make this burden heavier. She is often the first to give up what she wants for the good of everyone.

She constantly lives in two worlds: one where she is the caregiver, and another where she wants to act like a person in her own right. She might be patiently helping her siblings with their homework, but her mind is busy with her own un-finished assignments, a college application deadline, a business idea, or thoughts about her own future. She keeps going, however, as showing weakness might feel like letting down the trust placed in her.

The hardest part of her journey is that her struggles often remain invisible and unacknowledged because she is seen as the strong one, the quiet rock, the one who always keeps everything together. The fact is that she is much more than just an elder sister; she is a powerhouse, a guiding light of determination, and a living example of the beautiful, compli-cated story of larger human experience.

Ayesha Zia Zuberi
Karachi

Published in Dawn, September 30th, 2025