S3E27: Bushra - Growth Beyond Boundaries

Anisa: This setup is crazy. This is not how I imagined it, but . . .

Bushra: I wish you were able to come to the studio and see our actual professional setup because this doesn't give the same feel. It's an experience. #COVID-19.

Hey, what is up, everyone? It's Bushra, and I am rounding out the identity series that we have. And with me, I have a special guest, a long-time family friend, a roomie, bestie, confidant, all of the above, and we're just going to have a conversation about us, and our backgrounds, and the similarities, and differences between the two.

Like I always mention in practically every episode, you guys, by this point, know that I am Somali. My family came to the U.S. as refugees back in '96. And Anisa's family has a similar story. They came to Utah I think a year before we did. And so 20-plus years of knowing each other and a lot of history there.

Do you want to introduce yourself, Anisa?

Anisa: I feel like you just gave me the best introduction I ever could have had. I just feel so official with that introduction, but thank you. So my name is Anisa, as Bushra mentioned, and my family came to Utah in '95 as refugees. So it was my mom and four kids and trying to make it work in an entirely new continent, new culture. And of course, there were challenges and ups and downs with that, but here we are, 24 years later and thriving.

Bushra: It's interesting to me that while our paths coming to the U.S. is similar, I think the way that we grew up is different because there's a little bit of an age gap between me and you. One other thing is that you're the oldest in your family. And in the typical, I guess, Somali household, there is a hierarchy and there is the share of responsibility that gets put on, usually, the oldest, and particularly if you're the oldest female. You have three siblings. I had seven siblings, which is quite a bit, but I was in the middle, so I didn't feel like I had as much responsibility as my older siblings.

Anisa: Yeah, definitely. It's true that the responsibilities for siblings greatly vary in Somali households. So the youngest maybe gets to go off and just gets lost in the mix, and the youngest does what the youngest is going to do. And the middle child is usually there with some responsibilities, but it really tends to fall heavily on the oldest child, whether male or female, but more heavily if that oldest child is a female.

For me, in my family, coming here to America without my dad and being without him for so long, that kind of meant a lot more of that falling on me, so almost being a second parent in our household.

So my mom would go to work, and she'd be home all day, and then we'd come home from school. And she has lunch/dinner prepared. And then, it's just like a list of, "Okay, well, make sure that your siblings get their homework done. If there's laundry to be done, throw the laundry in, get that folded. Make sure they go to bed on time, make sure that you get your homework done."

And so every night, I remember at 9:00, I'd have my check-in with the boss, a.k.a. my mom, where she'd call and I'd just kind of run her through the evening of, "Yes. Everyone did their homework, laundry's put away, we all ate, everybody's good," and she's like, "Okay. Well, did you do your homework?" "Yeah, Mom, I did my homework." "Okay, well, you make sure you go to bed too because you have school in the morning." And that was her opportunity to parent me after we went through those checks.

So what that meant was my teenage years looked very different from my peers with that responsibility. And so there wasn't going over to Susie's house for her birthday party. It was more like, "No, you're not. You have responsibilities and things to do."

And it was hard to not be resentful growing up, missing out on so much, but as an adult now, I look back on it and just have so much more compassion for my mom and the fact that there was a lot that she did on her own without a partner, which I admire her so much for, because I'm 32 years old and I could not take care of a household. But there are a lot of lessons that I learned that a lot of my friends did not learn until they were adults, and probably still don't know.

Bushra: I like the fact that you brought up being a little bit resentful because while I never had to work or go to a job, and I know that you did when you were in high school, but I still had housework to do, taking care of the kids, that kind of stuff, to a more minor degree, but I was very resentful. I was so resentful.

I remember going on a rant. I was probably in like 9th or 10th grade in high school and just being so annoyed with my younger siblings, and my older sister too. "I don't understand why I have to take care of these kids. They're not even my kids. They're not my responsibility. I didn't choose this life," like a completely selfish outlook because I'm a fricking teenager.

I felt like everyone else got to live their life at school while, as soon as the bell rang, I had to get on the bus and get back home so that my mom could go to work and make a freaking living to pay for everything that we need, and she's a single mother, but that's not the way that I looked at stuff. It felt like everything was being done to me, to me, to me, to me.

It was very "I" centric, and looking back at that, I recognize that, but I was so resentful because I was like, "I want to go to Lagoon with all of my friends, stay after school for X, Y, and Z club," and I couldn't do those things because I still had those responsibilities. And I think a lot of people with immigrant parents might be able to relate to this.

Those feelings are okay. I've come to terms with it because it's different. People in different households have different experiences, and you're right, those experiences shape who you are. I don't know if this is a good thing or a bad thing, but I feel like I matured a lot earlier than a lot of my peers, and I think that helped me a lot in terms of the way that I deal with people or communicate with people. And I'm not going to lie. I still have immature qualities, but that's just my personality.

But I also feel like it gave me some sort of motivation to figure out what success meant to me in the world. Like, once all of this is over, once I don't have this responsibility, what are my goals? What do I want to do? What do I want to achieve? I know a lot of people tried and failed, so what would make me the exception to the rule?

Anisa: I think that question kind of is a sore spot for me because, again, there was so much of my own ambitions that I was kind of putting on the back-burner to help support the family that I didn't get to explore that question early on.

I had good jobs after school, but I wasn't exactly sure where my career was headed because everything kind of revolved around taking care of the family and putting the family first. But as I got older, I think I was able to set better boundaries just because then the family wasn't so dependent on me.

My siblings were almost all adults, my mom was in a much better place financially, and so it meant that I could say no to a lot more things and say, "I need to focus on me, I need to focus on school, or I need to back away from the family business to pursue my goals."

And that, for me, gave me a lot of freedom, to be in a position to tell my mom no. It was a moment where I learned my strength, because I could say no to anyone on this earth, but it's very hard for me to say no to her.

And that just comes from a place of love. I want to do everything that I can for her, but I've been in my career for a couple of years, I couldn't be happier, and she's been incredibly supportive of me.

And that's the other piece of it, is our parents are oftentimes looked as these very hard women who withhold joy and affection to make you stronger, but it's so refreshing to see the other side when I know that my mom is cheering for me and rooting for me.

Bushra: I think we need to touch on the boundaries issue because it's such a foreign concept to . . . I want to say immigrant families in general because everything is so interwoven. It's so codependent. Everyone works for the same goal, making sure that the family unit is strong, and a lot of times that means boundaries get skewed.

I know that it's a hard thing to do, and it comes along with a lot of guilt. Because, for me, in my experience, I think college is when I started putting boundaries because I wanted to take my education very seriously. I knew that the field that I wanted to go into was very competitive. I needed to be selfish. At that point, my siblings were a little older, they didn't need the constant coddling, and I know there were expectations for me as a girl to come home at a certain time and still do household chores, take care of the household.

But I remember just sitting down with my mom . . . because, at this point, this is like my second semester in college, and I was taking some kind of difficult science classes. She would call me at school while I'm in the library studying, saying, "Where are you? When are you going to come home? What are you doing?" And I'd be in study groups, and it's so embarrassing to have your mommy call you to check in on you, saying, "When are you going to come home?" And I'm like, "Bruh, I have finals. Leave me alone. Let me study," right?

And I remember coming home, I was so pissed, like, "Listen, do you want me to succeed in life? Yes or no?" I remember having this conversation with her, and she's like, "Yeah, of course I do. Why would you ask me that question?" I'm like, "I need you to trust me and to know that the things that I'm doing is for the sole purpose of me bettering my education, following the goals I want. I know that you're not sold on it completely, but just trust me in this process."

And I just showed her how passionate, I guess, I was about school, and it got better. I'm not going to say it went off without a hitch throughout my four years of undergrad, but it got a little bit better. I just started reiterating, "You know what? Today I'm spending the whole day studying. I'm not going to pick up a spoon to wash in the sink. I'm not going to clean anything. I'm going to sit my ass down and study for X amount of hours because I need to do really well on this test."

I felt like I was the first one to do that in my family. I have four older siblings, and at that point, they were all working, either full-time or part-time jobs, to sustain the family. I didn't have to work. I had a full-ride scholarship and work-study. That was it. It was very manageable. So I felt like in doing that, I was able to get through school without having to take any gap years, I was able to just focus solely on school, and I don't think my siblings had that same opportunity.

I always say this. Being further down, being the middle child, middle to younger child, is a very privileged place to be in because I didn't necessarily need to worry about whether the rent was going to be paid or whether the bills were going to be paid. I can focus more on me.

And even now when I look at my younger siblings, they are more privileged than I was. I'm not going to lie. I get a little peeved sometimes with all the stuff that they have and the lack of consequences for their actions, but also I'm really proud that they're in that position because that opens up a lot more opportunities for them to pursue things, not even necessarily in academia, but outside of that and figuring out what their interests are or hobbies. I didn't have a fricking hobby growing up.

So, looking back, did you see yourself where you are today?

Anisa: In some ways, yes. In other ways, no. As far as living near my mom and able to help her, yeah, that was always a part of my plan. And I think that comes from being Somali, that I would have a lot more opportunities in my career leaving the state, but then I would leave with a lot of guilt. It's not guilt that I feel bad about. It's not guilt that I wish would go away. Like, I want to be here and near her to support her in whatever she needs. And she really doesn't ask a lot of me anymore, and so that still allows me to pursue my passions and my career.

The thing that I did not see when I thought about this is that what a good relationship we would have. Don't get me wrong. Some days it's rough. Some days I feel like I'm 13 years old again, and just being told, and nothing that I'm saying or doing matters. It's just what she wants. But for the most part, though, we've really learned to communicate and hear each other out and come to the table with mutual respect and love for each other.

I had a conversation with a friend a couple of months ago who had said that she basically trained her mom, and I said, "Please send me your manual. I need this." But Somali mothers can't be trained. You can only just get a morsel of change, and just be thankful for that, and accept it, and you run with it. You take that win.

But yeah, I mean, we're at a place where things are really good. We talk every night. I share my goals with her, like, tell her my ambitions, and those are things that weren't there. I think that kind of came from setting the boundaries of like, "I'm working on these things," so then when we have those conversations, I can tell her, "I said no to you because I was working towards X, Y, and Z goal, and here's what I've accomplished, and this is what I still have left to do," so she can see that.

And I know that she's rooting for me. I know that your mom is rooting for you. But sometimes, I look at them, and I'm like, "You are not the ladies I grew up with." They're not. So shout-out to our moms for experiencing so much growth in the same way that we all did.

Bushra: I mean, I always complain about my mom, but who doesn't? But she is capable of change. She's changed a lot since growing up, though granted it's a slow-paced growth. Sometimes a lot slower than I would like it. I think, for me, it maybe went a little faster because my family moved to Minnesota right before I started med school and I was the only one left in Utah. I never thought that would happen in my life, like being away from my family ever, but the opportunity for growth, it was like almost exponential for me because I'd never realized how heavily I relied on my family to do things for me.

When I tell you . . . oh, my God, this is so embarrassing, but I didn't even know how to get my car registered. I didn't know how to get an oil change. You laugh at me, but I never had to worry about that kind of thing. And I grew so much from that, and as mature as I thought I was, which, I mean, I am a pretty mature person, but I didn't know real-life things, like practical things. I didn't know how to do those things because they were always taken care of for me just by virtue of having older siblings and having a mother that coddled me.

I think that if we push ourselves and if we push the people that we love, we're all capable of growing. If we emphasize the thing that we value and make people see the value in them, they'll recognize the validity in our choices.

And then, now I have this next chapter of residency ahead of me. I'm moving for residency. It's going to be completely different because I'm not going to be in Utah anymore where I grew up, where I have friends and family here, and you guys. I'm not going to have that base level of support anymore. So I anticipate more growth, growing pains up the wazoo.

As far as how I'll get there, I don't know, but I know that I will because I feel like I'm a strong enough person to take on that challenge, and I have people to fall back on, to call to, to cry to, all of the above. And then, I also feel like I'll have a good support system at the residency program that I'm going to.

I also think it's going to be a change for my mom who's going to be up in Minneapolis because she's not going to know anyone in freaking North Carolina. So she won't have anyone to call and be like, "What's Bushra up to?" So it's going to be a completely different ball game for all of us, and it's going to take some time. But I'm 27 years old. I think I'll be able to do the damn thing. Are you going to miss me when I'm gone?

Anisa: I am going to miss you exponentially. What I won't miss is when I'm coming down the stairs, and you turn the corner, and you scream at the top of your lungs, because you are the most easily startled person on this planet. So, honestly, good luck living alone.

Bushra: I almost feel like I'll be one of those people that needs to have a nightlight on, because I do get startled easily, and I've never been in the position . . . well, I guess during my away rotations, I lived on my own, but forever, that's crazy to me. Like, I've never had the opportunity to live on my own like that. And most people do it right out of college. I'm doing it for residency. It's, like I said, a different pace for everybody.

The other thing I want to work on, personal growth, and this is going to be a great test for me because I'm going to have to figure out how to make friends as an adult.

Anisa: I feel like you make friends the easiest of anyone I know. I've seen it where we walk into a room, and somehow you've got like 5 to 10 friends suddenly, people who are just like, "I love her. I'm obsessed with her." So I have no doubt that you're going to make friends.

Bushra: I don't know. A new place, but I will figure it out. I'll make new friends. The other thing I have to do, and I think I'm pretty bad at, is . . . and Harjit always gets at me for this, but maintaining the relationships I have now and keeping in contact and every once in a while checking in. I don't know why I'm so bad at that. Even my mom calls me and she's like, "What, you're not going to call me?" And I'm like, "I'm sorry."

Anisa: I struggle with that also. But the other side to that is when I see that friend again, it's like no time has passed and we just pick up right where we left off. And I also think that that's a true test of is your friendship real. Is it a friendship where you need to talk every single day for it to be real, or is it one that you both know you can go about your lives, and when you're together again, you just pick right back up? I think we have the latter.

Bushra: I think you're right.

So with all this talk about growth and how we've transformed into the people that we are today, making sure that you set up appropriate boundaries with people, making sure that you lead with your values and what you want for yourself, allowing the growing pains to settle in order for you to learn the lessons that you're meant to learn from all the experiences that you have, and then utilizing them, and also allow other people to grow too, I think those things will have to be incorporated into the new life I'm going to build myself in North Carolina.

With all of that being said, I just wanted to thank everyone for tuning into our conversation, and I hope that you could relate to some of the things that we talked about in this series and maybe learned something.

We would love to hear what you guys got out of this identity series and would love for you guys to reach out. We're on Instagram @bundleofhers.

Until next time, folks, bye-bye. Can Anisa also say bye? Of course, she can.

Anisa: Should I say bye-bye in the Bushra way, or is that trademarked?

Bushra: No, that's trademarked. Don't come for my thunder, girl.

Anisa: Okay. Well, bye-bye for now.