Unique Experiences in Therapy

One thing I hear often as a therapist who works with a lot of queer folks is that they don’t want to have to explain so much in therapy, and I think this is a common experience amongst children of immigrants, as well. Therapists who aren’t children of immigrants might not understand the nuances of how cultural beliefs impact our ideas around “healthy” relationships, and instead label clients as codependent or even delusional when our values don’t align with those of Western ideas of what it means to be well.

There can be unique feelings of confliction around how the world already treats and sees BIPOC humans and not wanting to add to this narrative in naming our own experiences of wounding and harm. When we come to understand that our parents also experienced trauma and the harmful impacts of colonialism and identity-based oppression, it can be difficult to feel like our own experiences are as important to address.

When we understand that our parents were forced into making choices without their consent around societal pressure to have children, even if they weren’t ready, that likely they also lacked experiences of emotional attunement and secure attachment, it can feel entitled and privileged to even think about setting boundaries or to consider cutting them off. A nuanced experience that many children of immigrants face is the feeling that our traumas and pains weren’t “as bad” as our parents (as this was drilled into many of our heads from a young age), which can lead to feelings of guilt around receiving support and validation, such as through therapy. It can feel really uncomfortable to talk about all the ways your parents hurt you when you also know they didn’t have their needs met.

Concept of Boundaries

One thing I often notice with fellow BIPOC children of immigrants when perhaps reflecting on experiences of white therapists telling us to “just set boundaries with our parents”, is a sarcastic laugh and a look of shared knowing because in many of our experiences, boundaries were “not a thing.” Boundaries were for white children who didn’t respect their parents. Boundaries are for people in individualistic, Western society who are all about “protecting their energy or peace” at the expense of multigenerational relationships and collective care. Boundaries are sometimes even considered disrespectful to assert in many BIPOC child of immigrants’ family systems.

Culture of Silence

Another barrier to therapy can be the often internalized belief that we are not supposed to speak poorly of our parents. This could have been told more directly in statements around family matters “not being other people’s business” or clear distinctions around “private family business” or more subtly through observation (i.e. watching how parents only fought behind closed doors or acted differently in public than in the home, observing parents’ responses to siblings who might have been punished for saying negative things about parents with friends, common statements of comparison about how “you have it so good, you have nothing to complain about”).

Comments about how parents put food on the table (and maybe even examples of how they went hungry so you could eat) and the struggles they experienced of real discrimination and trauma, come to mind. A classic example that makes for very funny tiktok re-enactments is of immigrant parents talking about their adventures to get to school, and the frequent use of their trauma as a reference point for why we should be grateful or even how “depression or food allergies or mental health didn’t exist when I was a kid, these new generations are so sensitive.”

For many of our parents, they did the best they could to survive, and some of the strategies they employed for survival might have included denial (of both their own experiences, and then passed down these patterns to their children), anger outbursts, physical discipline, and projections of shame in attempts to “protect their children from the world.”

Protective Strategies:

Understanding why we do the things we do can help us to have more compassion for ourselves and others, identify our needs, and inform how we want to show up in our relationships. I want to expand on some of the ways in which the strategies listed above make sense.

Denial:

Denial can be a survival mechanism employed because the realities of oppression are too overwhelming to us, and our bodies disconnect to protect us. Consider the phrase, “I blocked it out”, this is often mirrored in how immigrant parents might not talk about their experiences from childhood or of immigration, not because their bodies don’t remember or that it isn’t stored in their bodies (because they do, and it is), but rather because it can be too painful to recall and be aware of at every moment. This can lead to attempts to push down the memories and try to pretend they aren’t still distressing in the present – if we don’t talk about them, it can feel like we don’t have to re-encounter the ways in which they remain painful and impactful. Denial can also be a form of trying to protect others from our pain – parents might not want their children to know how difficult their experiences were, thinking it is easier for them not to know. Denial can also mirror the ways in which society dismisses experiences of oppression and be a form of internalized oppression, learning that “this is just the way things are” or taking on a sense of inevitability and forced acceptance to survive.

Anger outbursts:

Anger outbursts can also mirror external processes. When we push down our emotions, this can lead to explosive outbursts – our bodies attempt to release the pressure. Navigating a new culture via immigration can be associated with a lot of experiences of othering and oppression; this might look like having to work less-than-minimum wage jobs and not feeling able to complain or demand more because of the limited amount of jobs and need to survive. Additional pressures might include supporting children and spouses, and even family members who didn’t migrate. Additionally, navigating the world as a BIPOC human means experiences of microaggressions and frequently having to “be the bigger person” or suppress how we might want to respond in order to keep our jobs, minimize likelihood of being reprimanded, and for our safety. This constant pushing down of emotions, even if we know it is to survive, can lead to anger outbursts when we are finally in spaces where it feels safer to do so, but can still cause a lot of pain to loved ones.

Physical Discipline:

One of the reasons why physical discipline is often associated more with BIPOC parents is underlying efforts to protect children from the harshness of the world. You might have heard the phrase “don’t be your child’s first bully”. The idea behind this quote is that parents sometimes try to protect their children from being hurt in the world by being strict with them about their diet, for example, “out of love” thinking that if they can make sure their child is thin, then maybe they can be spared the impacts of fatphobia in the world. Another example is when parents might tell their kids that it’s not okay to be queer or try to punish them for having sex before marriage because they are afraid of how the world might treat them. Sadly, what often ends up happening is that the children (even as adults) feel shamed by peers in the world and within family, and further ostracized instead of celebrated and nurtured in their identities. This is also an example of the projection of shame from the world onto children under the guise of protection.

Contrary to popular belief, discipline is also not inherently something that BIPOC parents are more likely to do; the increase in discipline amongst BIPOC parents is actually a result of colonialism. Colonialism introduced more physical violence and punitive forms of punishment, and created conditions where valid anger of resistance to colonization was met with punishment, and that energy is then often directed internally in our communities.

Regardless of which strategies your parent(s) employed, you deserve to have space to process your experiences, because even if you learned that they “aren’t a big deal in comparison” or “you shouldn’t feel a certain way”, your feelings are important. Intergenerational trauma is also passed down both genetically and through relational patterns of observing our parents’ behaviors and when we are unaware, adopting them ourselves. Therapy can be a place to talk about and process these unique experiences so that you can heal, maybe to break the cycle for future generations, but also because you deserve to heal, too.

How can therapy help?

Experiences as children of immigrants are not a monolith; we all have different stories, nuanced experiences and perspectives that vary based on where our parents are from, their unique experiences, and our own temperaments, relationships, environments, etc. That being said, working with a therapist who is also a child of immigrants can offer a distinctive space where you might feel more able to be open because of shared / similar experiences.

It might be easier to talk about artful ways to approach “setting boundaries” when that could lead to disconnection from family members because it is perceived as rude. You might feel more able to share about the hurtful or even traumatic encounters you had with caregivers or family members in the presence of someone who you know is intentional about the nuances of naming harm from people who might also have experienced, and who continue to experience racial oppression and systemic barriers to their own healing. You might find that therapy with a fellow child of immigrants allows you to share more transparently about feelings of responsibility for your parents’ wellbeing because you see how hard they were trying, without fear of being pathologized for how you are navigating complex family dynamics.

Working with a fellow child of immigrant(s) therapist can also be important in expanding our concept of “healthy” relationships. Someone without this lived experience might offer suggestions that don’t take into account the nuances of experiences such as cultural norms around living with family and spending a lot of time together, ideas of what respect for elders entails, eating patterns such as fasting or around timing, that might be labeled as disordered in white spaces but that might be a part of cultural practices that have been in place for generations and offer connection to your ancestors; therapy can help you maintain a sense of integrity in honoring the cultural values you want to hold onto while exploring your own.

A short note to fellow children of immigrants:

You are allowed to talk about the ways in which your parents harmed you, and also believe that they were trying their best (or not!)

You are allowed to miss your parents and wish you could have a relationship with them and also accept if having a relationship with them isn’t an option in order to honor yourself.

You are allowed to have complex feelings about your parents: anger, gratitude, love, shame, sadness, grief, disappointment, longing, nostalgia; none of these feelings has to discount the others.

Looking for a therapist who is also a child of immigrants? I would love to meet with you!!

Looking for more resources around children of immigrants’ mental health? See the following resources before:

Inclusive Therapists Directory

Inclusive Therapists allows you to specifically search for therapists who specifcially focus on children of immigrants’ mental health

Culturally Enough

A Substack by therapist, Sahaj Kaur Kohl,i focusing on children of immigrants

Book: But What Will People Say?: Navigating Mental Health, Identity, Love, And Family Between Cultures by Sahaj Kaur Kohli

Brown Girl Therapy

Instagram account centering children of immigrants