LEARNING TO REST IN A CULTURE THAT DIDN’T TEACH IT

I want to focus on rest—something rarely discussed in immigrant communities, especially alongside the complicated and often toxic messages about rest that many children of immigrants grow up with. This is not about blame. First-generation immigrants often have limited choices; they are rebuilding a foundation in a new country, often under immense pressure. But it is worth examining whether the rules you inherited still serve your life today.

First, there is often little room to express tiredness. When you do, it may be met with comparisons: “Didn’t you see how hard we worked?” or “Do you know what we sacrificed?” These responses, while rooted in truth, can lead to guilt or a sense of inadequacy. Over time, you may begin to ignore your own limits—pushing past exhaustion in ways that can ultimately lead to burnout.

Second, there is a strong emphasis on hard work as the only path forward. Achievement becomes central, and rest is framed as stepping off track. This leaves little space to consider that rest might actually support that journey. Instead, rest becomes associated with laziness. So even as your body signals fatigue, you may respond by adding more tasks, striving for efficiency rather than sustainability. When those needs go unmet, they often resurface in the form of anxiety or depression.

Third, vulnerability is often treated as a flaw rather than a signal. There is pressure to build a career, support a family, and “make it”—yet little acknowledgment of how demanding modern work culture can be, or how parenting expectations have shifted. The message is often to adjust and keep going. But during phases of life where demands are high, this lack of grace can leave you feeling stretched thin, without permission to pause.

Finally, there is the tendency to look back on hardship through a softened lens. Phrases like “this generation is too soft” overlook the reality that experiences feel very different when you’re in them versus when you’re reflecting on them years later. Distance can blur the intensity of struggle, making present challenges seem less valid by comparison.

In a hyper-connected, comparison-driven world, choosing rest can feel almost rebellious. But rest is not the opposite of progress—it’s what makes sustainable progress possible. It allows you to recharge, reflect, and respond to life with intention, rather than pushing forward at the expense of your well-being.