When You Are First Gen and You Walk Into Therapy

Therapy sounds simple on paper.

You sit down. You talk about feelings. You learn coping tools. You heal.

But when you are first gen, culturally different, and raised by parents who do not speak English, therapy can feel like learning a whole new language while also translating your entire life.

Sometimes you show up wanting to talk about anxiety, and you realize you are carrying something bigger.

You are carrying the interpreter role you never applied for.

You are carrying the pressure to be the successful one.

You are carrying the guilt of wanting independence while still being loyal.

You are carrying two worlds that do not always understand each other.

And then there is the part nobody warns you about.

You can be proud of your culture and still feel trapped by what survival demanded.

You can love your family deeply and still feel hurt by what was never named.

You can be the responsible one and still feel like a child inside.

You can be “high functioning” and quietly be exhausted.

The invisible homework first gen clients do before session even starts

You rehearse what you are allowed to say. You wonder if talking about family is “betrayal.”You try to explain collectivism to a system that only knows independence.

You feel like you have to prove your pain is valid.

A lot of first gen clients have tried “quick fix” therapy and left feeling worse, not because they did anything wrong, but because the care was too small for the complexity.

If your story includes immigration, colonization, war, racism, language barriers, medical mistrust, and being parentified, then yes, it makes sense that a generic worksheet can feel insulting. You do not need to be “fixed.” You need to be understood.

What I notice in the therapy room with first gen clients

I notice how often people minimize themselves before they even speak.

They say, “It is not that bad.” They apologize for crying. They protect their parents while describing real pain. They describe racism and then immediately second guess it.

They carry shame like it is a personality trait instead of a learned survival response.

I also notice something powerful.

The moment someone realizes they are allowed to hold two truths, their nervous system softens. I can love them and still set boundaries. I can respect my culture and still want something different. I can be grateful and still grieve what I did not get.

That is not “being dramatic.” That is emotional maturity.

What I say as a therapist during this transition

If you are first gen, therapy with me is not about choosing between culture and healing.

It is about building a life that honours both.

I will not treat your family as the enemy. I will not treat your culture as the problem. I will not pretend racism is just anxiety. I will not make you translate yourself into a Western version of “healthy.”

We will focus on both self awareness and relational awareness. Because for many first gen clients, healing is not just inside your head. It is inside your relationships, your roles, your body, your story, and the systems you have had to survive.

And we will move at a pace that respects your nervous system. Not dramatic change. Not a perfect reinvention. Just honest steps, practiced consistently.

Slowly but surely.

If you have been thinking about therapy but hesitating

If part of you is scared that therapy will not get it, that makes sense. Many people have had experiences where they were misread, minimized, or forced into a one size plan.

But culturally responsive therapy can feel different.

It can feel like finally exhaling.

Like not having to prove your pain.

Like being met with curiosity instead of correction.

Like your story is allowed to be complex.

And you are allowed to be complex too.