A Letter to the Oldest Daughters

To the ones who led with love, even when no one asked them to.

Dear Oldest Daughter,

Hey girl.

I know you’re probably exhausted and have a million other things on your mind right now — but sit with me for a moment.

I know you are tired.
Not just “it’s been a long week” tired — I mean soul tired.
The kind of tired that builds quietly over years of being strong. Responsible. Selfless. The one who takes the backseat without being asked.

You didn’t sign up for the role, but you learned it anyway.
And honestly? You did it beautifully.

You love your siblings so much it almost knocks the wind out of you.
You’d move heaven and earth to make sure they’re okay — and you have.
You became their cheerleader, protector, safe place.
No one asked you to be selfless, but you just... were.

From the moment you found out you were going to be a big sister, something shifted.
You watched your parents start to nest and prepare — so you did too.
You picked out matching outfits. You made mental lists of games to play.
You learned what babies need and what makes them laugh.

The nurturer in you was activated before you even knew how to spell the word.
You loved deeply and instinctively.
You made yourself small sometimes, without even realizing it, because someone else needed space to grow.

And that is a beautiful thing.

But here’s the part no one talks about:
They grow up.
They need you less.
They go to college. They fall in love. They build lives of their own.

And suddenly... the thing that shaped so much of who you are — being their rock, their role model, their safe place — isn’t your whole world anymore.

So what do you do now?

You start choosing you.
You start realizing you don’t always have to be “the strong one.”
You get curious about who you are outside of who you’ve always been for everyone else.

Because while you were looking out for everyone else — sometimes at your own expense — you may have forgotten that you’re allowed to be looked after, too.

You’re allowed to be soft.
You’re allowed to have needs.
You’re allowed to rest.
You’re allowed to be loved — without having to earn it first.

I know you’ve sacrificed. I know it’s been hard to even admit that.
But hear me when I say this:

You are not selfish for putting yourself first now.
You are not “too much” for wanting to be held the way you’ve held everyone else.
You are not broken. Or behind. Or hard to love.

You are wise.
You are worthy.
And you are still that same big sister — but now you get to be a big sister to yourself, too.

Because even if the world only ever saw your strength — I see your tenderness.
And it’s safe to let it out now.

With love,
Another oldest daughter

If this letter found you at the right time, send it to another oldest daughter who might need it too. We don’t talk about this enough.

Photo by Hannah Busing on Unsplash