A Home of Two Worlds, A Heart of My Own

The Girl Who Asked to Be an Older Sister

Hello again dear readers ❤️✨

In Part 1, I shared a glimpse of my childhood — the vibrant world my parents tried to give me, the contrast between their upbringing and mine. I also mentioned that I was the one who asked to be an older sister.

Yup. I specifically asked for a brother because I wanted some contrast in my life 😆

I was pretty excited to be an older sister 🥰

Idk why, but I was always up for the job to protect and care for any being that was smaller and more vulnerable than me? It just made obvious sense that this little creature had feelings and I needed to care for them.

And so, my brother came along…..

He happened to inherit my mom’s volatile temper.

🥲🥲🥲

Sibling Chaos and Emotional Survival

My parents tried to give me all these little luxuries they believed would keep me happy — and blind to the chaos at home.

Both of my parents had very bad tempers which often resulted in me getting hurt — emotionally, sometimes physically.

I don't have any clear memories of what exactly was being talked about, I just knew I had to figure how to try not to feel sad or pain 😅

I think by the time my brother got here, I was already used to the emotional chaos and I just tried to adapt.

I'm not joking, it was like he came out of the womb looking for retribution

😭😭😭

We still got along but whenever he got mad??

😭😭😭😭

He was seriously just a toddler and already fighting me like I plundered his village in a past life 😅

So as a way to adapt, I used this time as self defense practice 😆

But I won't lie to you, I did at some point start to feel sad because I didn't understand why my parents never stepped in to correct his behavior?

And slowly, I started to wonder if my parents wished I was a boy?

Why did my parents seem to be proud of my brother's capacity to be physically more dominant??

If I messed up just a little bit at school or whenever, it was like I committed a crime 😭😭

At the same time, I was supposed to take care of my brother 24/7 and it was also my responsibility to keep his behavior in check.

🥲

Trying to Be the Exceptional Daughter

I remember feeling confused but again, I was very young. I was not fully aware of how hurtful this was and I just kept trying to be that exceptional daughter and sister. I did eventually figure out how to maintain a more peaceful relationship with my younger brother and how to work with his temper 😅

And we did become good friends.

Several years later, my younger sister was born and then my youngest brother came along. Again, I believed it was an honor to be an older sister so with that belief, I looked at the expansion of my family as something positive.

With time, I just started to realize that my feelings don't matter 🤷🏼‍♀️

I could never expect any emotional support from my parents because….

They never had it either?

Understanding My Parents Through Maslow’s Hierarchy

Early in life, I realized I had to stop expecting my parents to give me what they were never taught to give.

They have been stuck in the bottom tiers of Maslow’s pyramid most of their lives — focused on survival, safety, and external appearances. They wanted more for themselves, but psychologically and emotionally, they never had the tools or resources to break free.

Their idea of “happiness” or “success” was shaped by what society told them it should look like:

👶Have kids.

🏡Buy a house.

👨‍👩‍👧‍👦Don’t rock the boat.

My starting ground in life was already in the third tier — love and belonging. And with the help of my community, my teachers, and Phil Collins, I had the foundation to climb higher.

To be honest, I think Phil Collins launched my consciousness into self-actualization 😭😭😂😂😂

So eventually, I had to stop looking at my parents as the “blueprint”. They wanted me to succeed — but their fears, insecurities, and unhealed trauma sometimes made them my biggest critics.

And that's where boundaries came in.

The Weight of Being the Eldest Daughter

Setting boundaries as the eldest daughter in a Mexican family is no small thing.

In fact—it feels forbidden.

You're not supposed to have feelings. You're not supposed to say no.

You're expected to always be available—for your parents, for your siblings, for everyone but yourself.

My parents weren’t fluent in English, they also never learned healthy conflict resolution skills 🥲

So, at a very young age, I became their emotional shock absorber and their translator.

Even when they were angry with me, even when I was hurting, I was still expected to help with the bills, the paperwork, the doctor appointments.

I got defiant.

I didn't like being treated harshly and then still being expected to hold everything together.

I got disciplined hard for it….

But it was worth it 😤

Because……

This is the land of the free and the first amendment says I had the freedom of speech 😤

I wasn't just some obedient daughter-machine 🛸✨️

The Unspoken Expectations Around Daughters

Through interactions with other Mexican girls, I started hearing stories — some even heavier than mine. Girls whose parents tried to control every aspect of their lives. Girls whose parents willingly allowed them to be put on birth control.

Girls whose parents tried to push them towards a man — as if their futures could be bartered for social gain.

😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

Ave María Purísima 📿

Que Miedo.

Even my own mother crossed some boundaries when it came to my body.

Thank God.

Thank Jesus.

Thank Beyoncé, Whitney, Tina, and all the fabulous Divas of history….

I found support from people who saw what was happening — and helped put a stop to it

🥺💝✨️

But it left me wondering:

Why are some daughters treated like bargaining chips?

Like vessels for status or stability?

Why are our voices, our dreams, and our bodies so easily negotiated in families that claim to love us?

Seeing Through The Illusion of Appearances

My parents were deeply externally focused.

Their definitions of success, respect, and womanhood were all rooted in how things looked — not how they felt.

They wanted the picture-perfect family:

Respectable kids

A home to show off

Daughters who didn’t speak up

They didn’t realize that behind the picture, I was unraveling.

And that's when I knew, I couldn't use their values as a compass anymore.

They were navigating a world of survival and appearances.

I just wanted to be safe at home.

I just wanted to feel loved by my family.

I wanted peace.

Floating around in the 5th Tier

So here I was, with my consciousness floating around in the 5th tier of Maslow’s pyramid. Idealistic. Creative. Emotionally Intense.

Totally unprepared for the very real responsibilities of life — but deeply aware of something higher.

But to tell you the truth??

Thank God Phil Collins launched my toddler brain into self-actualization or I might have actually internalized all of my parents criticism 😭😂

I'm not on this earth to carry their emotional projections 😤

I won't lie to you, I felt angry and heartbroken over how emotionally unavailable my parents were. As their eldest daughter, I constantly felt like I had to be the girl, the woman, and the matriarch all at once.

I was never allowed just to be a kid. What was comfort? What was gentleness??

Chosen Family and Emotional Safety

One of the biggest themes in Tarzan — and one of the most beautiful truths I’ve lived — is that family doesn’t always mean blood.

Family means safety.

It means emotional trust.

It means you’re allowed to be seen.

And sometimes… that means finding it elsewhere.

My teachers, my local community, artists and writers I’ll never meet — they gave me the emotional support my home couldn’t. Maybe they weren't of the same heritage as me but even as a small child, I knew they would protect me. Without words, their actions to me said:

"We may not be the same, but I care for you as if you were my own. I don't know what it's like to be you, I don't know what's the right thing to say to you, but I see that you are hurting — and I don't want you to feel alone."

They proved to me that I was loved, that I was valued, and that I didn’t have to perform to be worthy of being cared for.

And that was enough to keep me going.

Did My Parents Love Me?

They did to the best of their ability 🤷🏼‍♀️

My parents had their own issues and I saw how deeply wounded they were. I felt angry for how they hurt me but I also realized I could seek out resources and support.

I also saw Matilda and if she freed herself from a toxic family while maintaining peace on both sides??

I could too 😝

My parents were and still operate from an external locus of control.

Maybe I was born just to prove they were doing life right.

Maybe my mom invested so much into my education just to brag about how smart I was.

Maybe I was dressed in all these beautiful dresses just so my mom could prove that she and her family were never poor a day in her life.

But it's still thanks to them that I started life at Tier 3. Perhaps not for the reasons I would have wanted, but with what they knew, they tried to make sure I didn't experience scarcity.

Before I could even tie my shoes, I was exposed to beauty, music, emotion, and creative escape.

My parents may have unintentionally enabled my idealism — because their idea of happiness and love is external and material.

All they knew was how awful it feels to be without any physical resources and they didn't want me to experience the same.

It low key feels like they were trying to bring me up like Siddhartha before he became Buddha 😆😆

Why I’m Still Glad I Was Born the Eldest Daughter

It wasn’t easy.

But it shaped me.

And here I am...

this is me

I came into this world so wild and free

Here I am, so young and strong

Right here where I belong

🐎

😭😭😂😂😂

Praise God for letting me be born a zoomer 😝

Like poor Gen X, they didn't grow up with Studio Ghibli or Dreamworks 😭

just hypersexsualized content that warped their innocence

👀👀👀👀

Jk Gen X 💝

Gen Z is always trying to copy the fashion that you wore first ✨️

But back to a more serious note, my experience as the eldest daughter was very difficult especially when I was still living the experience as a young powerless child. I occasionally go through moments where grief arises but.....

Idk 🤷🏼‍♀️

I don't feel like grieving anymore 😆

I have art to make 🌸

A beautiful life to live ✨️

And I still have to meet TWICE 🍭

Priorities. You know??

😂😂😂

Between Two Worlds, I Found Myself

As a kid, I was inspired by so many characters and people — most of whom didn’t look like me, or weren’t even the same gender. I didn’t care.

What mattered to me was emotional depth.

I didn’t need to see myself reflected perfectly — I just needed to feel less alone in my emotions.

And in that way, Tarzan was the perfect movie to shape my inner world.

Because in the end, it’s about being caught between two worlds — the one you’re born into, and the one you create.

And the truth is, you’re allowed to build a new life.

You’re allowed to break cycles.

You’re allowed to choose emotional safety.

You’re allowed to leave.

You’re allowed to rest.

You’re allowed to live for you.

Thank you so much for reading this two-part post 💝✨️

And for hanging in there with my kaleidoscopic consciousness 😝

With love always,

Daydreaming Muse 🥀

P.S.

You know what's wild??

The first movie I consciously remember watching was Tarzan....

I knew Phil Collins didn’t have to go that hard on the soundtrack but I didn't know the actual movie of Tarzan was foreshadowing my life 😭😭😂😂😂