I feel like I was always aware of my seemingly constant emotional labor in my formative years, long before I read Arlie Hochschild’s formal definition of it. However, my “second shift” wasn’t with a husband at home, but a grandmother.
My grandmother started living with my parents and me when I was thirteen years old. I remember being so excited for her to move in with us, since my perception of her was built entirely on holiday dinners and summer visits; she was my caring, fun-loving grandmother who helped me scrapbook and pushed me on the rope swing.
The rose-colored glasses came off during my freshman year of high school. I became increasingly aware of the comments she would make about my mother’s dinners (she never liked the Chinese dishes she would be make, and only sung praises of the Italian or American food) and the passive-aggressive behavior towards all three of us (it was always drawn-out sighs and slammed doors when she was unhappy with something, never a conversation). She would make off-handed comments about how much I ate. Compare how much time I spent with my friends and extracurricular activities to my time spent doing homework. How closed-off we were towards her. Sometimes, she was so close to the point– it dangled right in front of her, yet she was never able to connect the dots.
And how could she, when she never viewed herself as a potential source of suffering?
And so, I never feel like I can truly be myself when I’m at home. When my grandmother is around, my perception management is at an all-time high– my every word and move and breath is being put under a microscope and is subject to her judgment. I often find myself in a tailspin, thinking about what she potentially thought about something I said a week ago, wondering if it bothered her or made her upset. Yes, it’s as exhausting as it sounds.
I don’t want to point fingers, but the way I hyper-analyze and people-please feels a lot like the way I’ve been passively conditioned to interact with my grandmother (don’t worry, my therapist has heard all about it). But the almost comedic aspect of it all is that, despite the pain she’s caused with her judgment and passive-aggressiveness (for me, my parents, and many other family members), I still feel the need to be a “perfect granddaughter” in her eyes. I still care so much about what she thinks of me, I still want to be in good standing with her. Because, well, she’s my grandmother, and there are understandable circumstances that force her to live with us. At the end of the day, I still love her– for now that’s enough to get me through another day.
Unruly Bodies 
I really like your post. I really understand the suffering that comes from trying to be what someones “ideal” you are when it goes against your own idea of what you want to be and do. Especially when the individual is someone that you grew up having such a grand image of and could not imagine them as someone holding such high expectations of you. It makes a lot of sense that you want to be “perfect” for her when you care about her so much and want to give her a lot of happiness like she did in your childhood. I am sorry that it has gotten to the point that you had to seek out professional help, that’s never something easy to do.
I might be wrong here, but it sounds like your mom is Chinese and your grandma (and presumably your dad’s side of the family) is white? Because I’m in the exact same situation so I know how sometimes white family members look at me and my mom with a tiny spark of exoticism in their eyes. It’s really hard, being othered and judged by a family member like this, and I think that the racism mixed people experience in our own homes is something that has not been talked about nearly enough. Even if it’s just comments about your mom’s food, I imagine that it hits deeper. Maybe I’m projecting too much? Either way, even if I assumed wrong anywhere, I hope you reach a place of mutual respect with your grandmother.
No wrong assumptions or projection there – I share every sentiment you mentioned. While I’m sad that we’re both potentially going through something similar within our mixed race families, in a twisted way it’s comforting to know that I’m not the only one who feels this way. Reading your comment made me feel very seen so thank you 🙂
This is a really interesting post, thank you for sharing! I think it’s really interesting to consider the exertion of emotional labor within families–I feel it’s a place where so much is expected. This is especially true with older generations and it can be so frustrating to feel that disconnect and, in your case, have to walk on eggshells around your grandmother. I always wonder how much women our grandparents age are affected by the misogyny they experienced to a point where it informs who they are and beliefs they’ve internalized; I feel emotional labor is often something done to offset this.