How I Unlearned Guilt As A First-Generation Daughter And Over-Achiever
Growing up in a working-class family, hard work was a non-negotiable expectation.
I’m sure many of us relate to this: success is relative to effort, and you worked very hard all the time, to be exceptional, not the norm. You were expected to go above and beyond in the workplace as a professional because you were grateful to have the chance to be there at all.
Where generations before me had to toil away in labor-intensive roles that kept families in relative poverty, I had the privilege of waking up in the morning to sit at a desk in an office.
So naturally, I overextended myself at work. It took years before I realized the symptoms I was dealing with were not normal to corporate America and were very real signs of burnout.
At first, I dismissed it all. My mental health was in shambles, I was struggling to concentrate, execute, or find the drive to get anything done at all, but things were getting done regardless, so it was all good, right?
Wrong. And it took a true crash out from the burnout to recognize the signs.
The Weight Of Being The First
Being the eldest in your family comes with unspoken pressure. You’re not just trying to navigate your career, you’re translating systems for your family, sending money home, explaining 401ks at the kitchen table, and answering late-night texts about job applications and doctor’s appointments while also trying to keep it all together. It’s beautiful and sacred. But it can also be isolating.
I didn’t grow up hearing conversations about boundaries or burnout. My parents worked hard because they had to. They didn’t have time to take a breath and think about how they felt about their jobs. So when I started feeling overwhelmed, my first instinct was to stay quiet and push harder because that’s what I had seen and I didn’t want to seem ungrateful. I didn’t want to let anyone down. What I didn’t know was that I was ultimately failing myself before others.
The Breaking Point
Everything came to a head during a particularly brutal quarter at work. I was juggling long working hours, leading major campaigns, trying to finish my Master’s degree, and navigating a relatively toxic workplace, all while trying to show up for my family, friends, and community. I stopped sleeping. I lost interest in things I used to love. I stopped talking to my family and friends. Worst of all, I felt disconnected from myself. I didn’t trust myself enough to even make simple decisions like what to do after work, so I did nothing instead. I endlessly scrolled on social media just to feel something. I put forth the bare minimum on my projects and ended up in a very dark place mentally as a result.
That’s when I realized I wasn’t just tired. I was exhausted. That’s when I knew something had to change.
Leaving My Career
At the time of my burnout, I was working in what I considered to be my dream job. It was a groundbreaking startup technology company where I was trusted to do communications and social media on a team of talented, creative people. Though the hours were long and the culture was competitive, it was largely what I always wanted to do and where I always wanted to be. I had always craved a professional environment where I would be surrounded by smart, capable people I could learn from.
However, the job got rough and the market changed. The hustle culture took its toll on me and the long hours were wearing me down. At the time I had graduated from college with my MBA and was looking for my next move. I expressed my feelings to my boss who gave me the option to get laid off and use the two months to figure out my next move.
That was a pretty surprising offer for me, but I took the opportunity for a clarity break. So I spent the next two months making some of the most important decisions I’d ever make in my personal and professional life.
Choosing Recovery Over Perfection
I’m a high-achieving person in general. I love to ideate and execute with people and I love to keep busy with projects, so choosing to be laid off without a plan was VERY out of character for me. However, I knew I wasn’t in a good place mentally and this gave me the rare opportunity to put my recovery from burnout ahead of my need to continue being high-achieving.
Recovering from burnout wasn’t a quick fix. It started with unlearning everything I thought I had to be: the perfect employee, the strong daughter, the go-to person for everyone’s needs. It meant getting honest with myself about the pace I was moving at, and who I was even trying to prove myself to.
The most effective way I was able to reconnect with myself and reinforce rest as a priority was by setting boundaries without apologizing.
I started saying “no” without over-explaining. I blocked off time on my calendar just for myself and stuck to it like I would a professional meeting and I stopped responding to work emails after business hours. I used automatic scheduling tools to give me break times between meetings and implemented morning catchups so I could schedule out my days more effectively, versus maintaining a reactive approach where the day would control me. Setting boundaries wasn’t about being difficult; it was about creating a sustainable pace that served me first.
The Therapy That Rewired Me
I then sought therapy because I was overwhelmed by guilt: the kind that lingers even when you know you’re doing everything you can. I felt guilty for not doing enough, for craving rest, for setting boundaries and for no longer being everything to everyone. I knew I needed help untangling that emotional weight, but more importantly, I needed someone who truly understood where it came from.
It was important for me to work with a Latina therapist. Someone who wouldn’t just understand therapy, but who understood me. I wanted someone who understood the cultural nuances of being a high-achieving, first-gen Latina navigating spaces that weren’t designed with us in mind. High on the priority list of things I wanted to work on was working with someone who could help me not just manage stress, but also learn how to advocate for myself, express emotions I’d long been taught to suppress, and reimagine what thriving could look like on my own terms.
Working with my therapist changed everything. I finally had the language to name what I had been carrying for years. It wasn’t just guilt, but immense pressure and quiet grief of constantly performing, pleasing, and producing. I had spent so long trying to become a version of myself that would make everyone else proud, and it never occurred to me that in the process, I was abandoning what I needed most.
One of the most powerful breakthroughs I had was realizing just how tightly guilt had been woven into my identity. Guilt around rest, around saying no, around wanting more ease. I began to see that my constant drive to prove I was worthy of the job, the degree, the seat at the table was fueled by guilt. And that guilt, I learned, wasn’t necessarily a signal I was doing something wrong. More often than not, it was a sign I was doing something new—something unfamiliar, but necessary.
Therapy helped me reframe rest not as a weakness, but as a requirement for showing up as my full, grounded self. It gave me tools to release the need to over-explain, over-deliver, and overextend. Most importantly, it reminded me that I didn’t have to carry all of this alone.
I also learned the power of authenticity and not needing to constantly be “on” to make connections with others. While I used to overthink every interaction with others and worry about how I was coming off to forge connections, I stopped doubting myself and instead worked on actually liking myself.
Working on my self-confidence in private helped me in improving myself in public, so spending time getting to know myself, protecting my boundaries, and enforcing those boundaries took me out of a performance mode to one where I’m consistently myself, all the time. This reduces burnout significantly and makes it easier for me to meet others without feeling pressure to perform.
I also learned to lean into my circle and not carry everything on my own. I surrounded myself with people who could remind me of my worth when I forgot it. Whether it was a voice note from a friend, a community event that reminded me why I started or a group chat full of mujeres hyping each other up, I learned I didn’t have to do it all alone. I could ask for help from my family and friends versus seeing everything as a one-woman show and that did wonders for me.
A New Definition Of Success
Today, success looks different to me after encountering burnout. It’s no longer about titles or accolades, but more about alignment. Now, I wake up with clarity and go to bed with peace. I learned to create space for joy, for softness and ease.
As first-gen Latinas, I know first hand we carry so much weight. But we also get to write new stories. Stories about being ambitious and well-rested. Stories about leading without losing ourselves and where we thrive without guilt.
If you’re feeling the weight of burnout, I want you to know: you are not alone. You don’t have to earn rest. You already deserve it.
If you’re at a place where you’re ready to prioritize your healing, I can’t recommend therapy enough. Latinx Therapy, Therapy For Latinx, and Psychology Today are great places to start, especially if you’re looking for someone who understands your lived experience. They accept most insurance and can hold space for everything you bring into the room.
