The Weight of Expectation: Growing Up as a Migrant Kid Under the Model Minority Myth
- Jannine Nock
- Feb 10
- 2 min read

"I didn’t see it as an achievement because it was in my head that it was my obligation to achieve it."
This sentence, in many ways, defines the experience of so many migrant kids—especially those of us who grew up under the weight of the model minority myth. Success wasn’t an option; it was the bare minimum.
The Silent Contract We Never Signed
From the moment we were old enough to understand, we absorbed the unspoken rule:
"You must succeed because we sacrificed everything for you to be here." There was no explicit contract, but the terms were clear—excel in school, get into a prestigious career, be financially stable, and above all, never disappoint.
I never questioned it. Straight As weren’t achievements; they were expected. University wasn’t a goal; it was a given. Every milestone I reached felt more like checking off a list rather than a moment to celebrate. Because, in my head, there was no alternative.

The Model Minority Myth and Its Double-Edged Sword
The model minority myth paints a picture of migrant communities—especially South Asians and East Asians—as naturally hard-working, academically gifted, and economically successful. At first glance, it might seem like a compliment. But in reality, it’s a trap.
It erases the struggles, the failures, the moments of self-doubt. It assumes that success comes easily to us, invalidating the immense pressure, late nights, and silent breakdowns. And worst of all, it pits us against other marginalized communities, reinforcing a system that thrives on divide-and-conquer tactics.
For many of us, this myth means that struggle is invisible—even to ourselves. We don’t recognize burnout because we were never taught that we’re allowed to be tired. We don’t see anxiety or depression as valid because we were raised to believe that discomfort is just a part of life.
The Cost of Always Being "Good Enough"
The hardest part about growing up like this is that you never really know when to stop. When achievement is your default setting, when do you allow yourself to feel proud? When do you learn that your worth isn’t just tied to your output?
For me, it took years to understand that I am more than what I produce. That I am allowed to want things for myself, not just for the expectations placed upon me. That I can redefine success outside of traditional checkboxes.

Breaking the Cycle
Undoing years of internalized obligation isn’t easy. It means:
Learning to celebrate small wins without guilt.
Understanding that rest is not laziness.
Recognizing that failure does not make me unworthy.
Allowing myself to exist beyond academic or professional labels.
Most importantly, it means giving myself permission to just be—without the constant need to prove something.
If you grew up feeling like achievements were just obligations, I see you. And I hope you know: you were always enough, even before you “made it.”

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