Only Men Have Parents; The Rest of Us Just Have Owners — On Being a Daughter, Growing Up With Unequal Expectations, Being Reminded That Your Place at Home Is Temporary, and Suddenly Becoming Equally Responsible When Your Parents Need You
Some daughters are raised to understand that they will eventually leave their parents' homes, that their independence has a deadline, that marriage is the alternative if they fail to become financially independent, and that their responsibilities towards their parents will never have an expiry date. We may grow up under the same roof, but that doesn’t mean we grow up with the same freedom, expectations, or childhood.
"Only men have parents; the rest of us just have owners."
I came across this sentence once, and something about it stayed with me.
I read it again and again. It wasn't necessarily because I agreed with every word, but because I could understand the feelings behind it. It reminded me of conversations I had heard, things I had been told, and expectations that seem so ordinary in some families that nobody even questions them.
I think some sentences hurt because they put into words something you have been trying to understand for a long time.
I am a daughter, and there are certain conversations I have heard more than once in my own home.
My mother knows that I don't want to get married. I have told her that I want to work, travel, visit different countries, experience different cultures and see the world. I want to have a life where I can make decisions for myself. I don't want marriage to be something I enter simply because it is expected of me.
But whenever this subject comes up, there is usually a condition attached.
If I get a job, then it is fine. If I don't, they will get me married. They will not keep me sitting on their heads forever.
She has said it in different ways, on different occasions.
I have also heard her say that I am not going to remain their responsibility for my entire life. They have a son too.
And perhaps these sentences sound ordinary to someone who hasn't experienced them. Perhaps they sound like practical reminders about adulthood, employment and family responsibilities.
But when you hear them repeatedly, they begin to mean something else.
They make you wonder whether your place in your own home has an unspoken deadline.
Get a job, or get married.
As though those are the only two acceptable possibilities for a daughter's future.
As though there is no room for uncertainty, no room for taking time to establish yourself, no room for choosing a different kind of life.
I understand that parents cannot be expected to financially support their children forever. I understand that adulthood comes with responsibilities and that everyone eventually has to learn to manage their own life.
But that isn't what I am questioning.
I am questioning why marriage is presented as an alternative when a daughter doesn't achieve financial independence within the expected time.
Why does her future have to be discussed as though it is an arrangement that needs to be completed?
Why does not wanting to get married sometimes sound like an unreasonable demand rather than a personal decision?
And why does a daughter have to keep explaining that wanting to live independently does not mean wanting to abandon her family?
The conversations we overhear
I remember another conversation, one I wasn't even part of.
My mother was talking to an auntie. She mentioned that the auntie had a son in her first pregnancy and said that was why she was free early.
I don't know exactly what she intended by saying that. Perhaps it was just an ordinary observation. Perhaps she didn't think much about it.
But I heard it.
And when you have already heard similar things about your own future, even an unrelated conversation can make you think.
It makes you wonder whether having a son is considered a kind of security for parents, while having a daughter comes with an expectation that she will eventually leave.
A son is often imagined as someone who will remain connected to the family, perhaps live nearby, carry forward the family name or take care of his parents.
A daughter, meanwhile, is often imagined as someone who will eventually move into another household, become part of another family and adjust to a different set of expectations.
Of course, not every family thinks this way. Not every son stays, and not every daughter leaves her parents behind. Real life is much more complicated.
But the expectation itself exists.
And daughters hear it in different forms throughout their childhood.
Sometimes it is said directly. Sometimes it is hidden inside jokes, comparisons, casual remarks or conversations between adults.
Eventually, you begin to understand that people have already imagined a future for you, even before you have had the opportunity to imagine one for yourself.
We were raised in the same house, but were we raised the same way?
There is another thing I keep thinking about.
Parents sometimes say, "We raised both of you. We spent on both of you. We provided for both of you."
And yes, they did.
But did they raise both children in the same way?
We may have grown up under the same roof, eaten at the same table, attended the same family functions and called the same people our parents.
But did we have the same freedom?
Were our decisions questioned in the same way? Were our mistakes treated equally? Were we given the same opportunities to explore life? Were our futures imagined with the same expectations?
Sometimes, two children can grow up in the same house and still experience completely different childhoods.
We were raised in the same house, but we were raised by different parents wearing the same faces.
The son and the daughter may have the same parents, but the rules applied to them can be entirely different.
One may be encouraged to explore, take risks, make decisions and build a life.
The other may be constantly reminded to be careful, adjust, behave properly, protect the family's reputation and remember that one day she will leave.
One child's independence may be treated as a natural part of growing up.
The other's independence may be treated as something that needs permission.
And then, years later, when someone says, "We raised both of you equally," how is a daughter supposed to explain that providing the same food, education and shelter does not necessarily mean providing the same freedom?
Equality is not just about what children receive materially. It is also about the opportunities, expectations, trust and independence they are allowed to experience.
Sharing a childhood address does not guarantee sharing the same childhood.
When they need us, we are their daughters again
But there is another contradiction I find difficult to understand.
If daughters are repeatedly reminded that they cannot remain their parents' responsibility forever, that they will eventually marry, move away and build their own families, then why are they suddenly remembered when their parents need support?
When a son does not provide enough, when parents don't receive the care, attention or even the basic comforts they expected from him, why do daughters suddenly become equally responsible?
Why does the distinction between sons and daughters disappear at that moment?
Why does nobody say that the daughter has her own life now, that she may have her own household and responsibilities, and that she cannot be expected to carry everything?
Instead, daughters are reminded that they were raised too.
That their parents spent money on them too.
That they were fed, educated and taken care of too.
And I keep thinking about this.
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Yes, you raised us.
You raised both of us.
But you raised us with different expectations.
You reminded one child that the family would remain his home, while the other was repeatedly reminded that she would eventually have to leave.
You may have given both children an education, but did you give both the same freedom to decide what to do with it?
You may have provided for both, but did both grow up with the same understanding of what their future could look like?
And if a daughter is expected to become independent, leave her parents' home and establish a separate life, why is she still expected to carry the same responsibilities whenever the family needs her?
I am not saying daughters should abandon their parents. I am not saying sons should be the only ones responsible for their parents. I am not saying that marriage should automatically end a daughter's relationship with her family.
I am questioning the selective expectations.
If daughters are considered independent enough to be told that they cannot depend on their parents forever, shouldn't they also be allowed to make independent decisions about their own futures and responsibilities?
If they are expected to adjust to another household someday, why are they not always given the same freedom to decide how they want to live before that happens?
Why is independence discussed as a daughter's obligation, but responsibility discussed as her duty regardless of the circumstances?
The debt of being someone's child
There is another part of this that deserves to be discussed.
We often hear parents say that they have sacrificed so much for their children.
They worked hard. They provided food, education, clothes, shelter and everything they could afford.
And those things matter. Raising children requires time, money, effort and responsibility.
But sometimes, those sacrifices become part of every disagreement.
A daughter expresses an opinion, and she is reminded of what her parents have done for her.
She wants to make a different decision, and suddenly she is ungrateful.
She wants to pursue a different career, and she is reminded that her parents know better.
She wants to live differently, and she is reminded that she cannot forget her family's expectations.
It begins to feel as though everything provided during childhood has become a debt that must be repaid through obedience.
But children did not ask to be born into a particular family. Providing for them was a parental responsibility, not a transaction in which they agreed to surrender their future.
And being grateful should not mean giving up the right to have an opinion.
A daughter can appreciate everything her parents have done and still disagree with them.
She can love them and still feel hurt by their words.
She can want to support them and still question why her responsibilities are discussed differently depending on whether she is needed or expected to leave.
These feelings can exist together.
A daughter is not a temporary member of her family
Perhaps the most exhausting part is not even one particular sentence.
It is the repetition.
The repeated reminders that you will eventually leave.
The repeated conversations about marriage.
The repeated suggestions that you cannot remain dependent.
The repeated expectations that you should understand everything because you are a daughter.
And then, when family responsibilities arise, the expectation that you should remember that you are their child too.
It is difficult to explain what this does to the way someone thinks about home.
A home is supposed to be where you belong without constantly calculating how long you are allowed to stay.
But what happens when you grow up hearing that your place there is temporary?
What happens when you are expected to build your own life but have very little say in what that life should look like?
What happens when your future is discussed as a responsibility to be transferred rather than a life to be lived?
I don't know whether every parent realises how deeply these conversations can affect their daughters.
Perhaps some genuinely believe they are preparing them for the realities of adulthood. Perhaps others simply repeat what they have heard throughout their own lives.
But intentions do not automatically erase the effect of words.
And I don't think daughters should have to pretend that these things never hurt simply because they were said by their parents.
There is no beautiful conclusion to this
I don't want to end this by saying that everything will eventually become better.
I don't want to turn this into another motivational piece about becoming successful, proving everyone wrong or making your parents proud.
Because that would miss the point.
The point is not that daughters should become successful enough to earn the right to make their own decisions.
The point is that their lives should not be treated as something they have to earn ownership of.
A daughter should not have to secure a job to justify why she doesn't want to get married.
She should not have to become financially successful before her opinions are taken seriously.
And she should not be reminded that she will leave the family whenever her future comes up, only to be reminded that she belongs to the family whenever responsibility comes up.
I don't know how many daughters have heard similar conversations. I don't know how many have learned to laugh at these remarks because responding would create another argument.
But I know that some sentences stay with you.
And perhaps that is why I cannot forget the one I read at the beginning.
"Only men have parents; the rest of us just have owners."
Maybe it doesn't describe every family.
But for some daughters, it describes a feeling they have struggled to explain.
The feeling that their childhood came with conditions, their adulthood comes with expectations, and their responsibilities will continue regardless of how much freedom they were given.
We were their children when they raised us.
We are their daughters when they need us.
But sometimes, when we want to decide what our own lives should look like, we are reminded that we cannot stay forever.
And I still find that contradiction difficult to understand.
If we are family when you need us, why do we sometimes feel like strangers when we need to be understood?
