On Becoming the Woman I Was Always Meant to Be, Even When It Felt Like an Impossible Journey

It’s not easy to be the first.

The first one in your family to say no to the silent expectations.

The first one to choose a different path, even when the world around you tries to pull you back into its mold.

The first one to break the cycle—not because you’re stronger, but because you’ve been asked to be the courage for the future.

And sometimes, when I look back at the women who came before me—my mother, my grandmothers, the strong silent women who didn’t dare to ask for anything beyond what they were given—I feel the weight of what I carry.

I feel the ache in my heart.

The ache that says, You’re different. You’re not fitting in. You’re making them uncomfortable.

The Ache of Expectations

My mother loves me deeply. I know this.

But sometimes, love feels like a set of chains.

She wants me to follow the path she knows.

She wants me to take the safe route, to build my life on the same foundations she did.

Because that’s what we were taught to do.

But when you are the first to dream differently, you become the outsider.

You become the one who doesn’t fit.

The one who doesn’t follow.

And there are moments when it feels like I am a product on a shelf, marked with an expiration date—just waiting for my life to be validated by a certain timeline.

I can feel it.

I can hear the whispers, both outside and inside my mind: When will you settle down? When will you have children? When will you make everything “right”?

And in those moments, my heart aches so deeply it almost breaks.

I cry not because I’m weak.

But because I wonder if I’m enough.

The Tears That Fall: Doubt and Desire

There are days when the pressure feels so heavy I can hardly breathe.

When I lie in bed at night and think about everything I’m “supposed” to do, the roles I’m “supposed” to play, and I wonder if I’m just too much for this world.

Am I too much to be loved?

Am I too much to be understood?

Am I too much for the path that’s been chosen for me?

Sometimes, I feel like I’m not even living my own life.

I’m just a shadow of what others want me to be.

And then the tears come.

Not from weakness, but from the ache of wanting to be seen.

The tears of frustration, of longing, of doubt.

The tears of a woman who isn’t sure if she’s brave enough to carve a new road.

But even through the tears, I feel the pull of something stronger inside me.

A knowing that says, You don’t have to follow this path. You don’t have to be what they want you to be.

You can be free.

Choosing Myself, Despite the Pressure

It’s taken me years to trust that freedom.

To believe that my life doesn’t have to fit anyone’s timeline or expectation.

To stop feeling like an incomplete puzzle piece because I don’t fit into the world’s idea of success, of love, of womanhood.

Yes, it’s hard to be the first.

Yes, there are days when I feel like I’m not enough, that I’m failing to live up to what others want for me.

But then, in the quiet moments when the world fades away, I remember something deep inside me:

I am not here to follow someone else’s dream.

I am here to live mine.

And it doesn’t need to look like anyone else’s.

I will choose my career when I’m ready, not when they say it’s time.

I will marry when I find someone who truly sees me—who will make me feel like a partner, not a project.

And I will become a mother only when I am certain that I’m ready to create life from a place of overflow, not obligation.

You Are Not Alone in This

I know there are women—many women—who feel this ache.

Who are told they are too much, or too little.

Who are given timelines they didn’t choose.

Who are told their worth is tied to marriage, children, and conformity.

But let me tell you this:

You are enough.

You are not too much.

You are not defined by anyone else’s script for your life.

You are allowed to choose your own time.

You are allowed to decide what success looks like for you.

You are allowed to let go of the shame that others have placed on your soul.

With strength, softness, and every tear I’ve ever cried,

Seraphine Duong

I may be the first in my family to break free from expectations.

But I won’t be the last.

I am doing this not just for me, but for every woman in my bloodline who was told she didn’t have a choice.

For the little girls who are watching me, wondering if they are allowed to be themselves.

For every woman whose soul longs for something more than what the world has told her she deserves.

This is not about fighting against anyone.

This is about fighting for us.

For our freedom.

For our right to live on our terms.

For our right to say, We are enough—just as we are.

And so, I choose.

I choose to break free.

I choose to follow my own path.

I choose to be the woman I was always meant to be.