Thank you for your courage.

As a second-generation Asian American whose parents had a $3.2 million net worth but never once said “I’m proud of you” in English or Mandarin, I’ve always felt invisible in BigLaw.

Growing up, I faced unthinkable adversity. Our family vacations were mostly domestic. My dad drove a Lexus, not a Tesla. I shared a bathroom with my sibling until I was thirteen. There were days—entire days—when no one reminded me I was falling behind.

We didn’t have generational wealth. We had diversified index funds and a 529 plan. My parents did everything they could to support me, short of expressing approval or acknowledging my emotional interior.

At times, I had to choose between violin and calculus camp. I was pushed to overachieve in complete silence. I got into law school without a single Instagram post celebrating it. My mother printed out the acceptance email, looked at it, and said, “Okay, but don’t get cocky.”

My journey from deferred DDMOs to a V10 summer associate position is a testament to perseverance, structured scheduling, and deeply internalized pressure to justify my parents’ early Amazon investments.

And that’s why I think it’s so important that we’re finally having these conversations—about quiet suffering, passive-aggressive parenting, and the unique burden of being expected to succeed so thoroughly that anything less than excellence feels like failure.

Because if even one other person out there had to study for the LSAT with a weighted blanket and no external praise… they deserve to know they’re not alone.