My mom was 19 when she left college and began working as a flight attendant for Biman Airlines, the only national airline for Bangladesh. To be selected as an air hostess is an honor, almost. She still shares stories with me about how she would be exhausted after a flight, but still found time to schedule hangouts with her fellow colleagues in their Sheraton hotels, exchanging stories about grumpy passengers over rice and daal.

Bengalis, and most South Asians in my experience, embrace self-sacrifice - the concept of doing whatever is necessary for the greater good of the family. Nuclear families seem to be a new phenomenon, but the norm is that most adult children do not leave the home until they get married. Individualism, 'finding yourself' and self-love are all very necessary, but often trivialized in our culture.

After my grandmother passed away, Reba - my mother, took it upon herself to start working to help raise her siblings. She was one of eight. Reba would bring back gifts, clothing, and beauty products from 'trips' and sell them in Dhaka as an added source of income on top of her flights. My grandpa, who passed two years ago, managed his business to help make ends meet.

My sister is such a brat, ugh. That's my grandpa, "I know Bushra, Susana is super annoying."

In the process of helping her family, Reba quickly formed a relationship with my dad. They had only dated for 3 weeks before they got married. She told me she was in a relationship with someone prior for almost four years, before he ended things because his mother did want them to get married.

"Keo goriv me ke biye korte chai nai"

"No one wanted to marry the poor girl."

This wasn't to say my mother's family was poor - they struggled. But even then, no one wanted to wed a woman who had to give up a piece of herself to her family in order for her to help them survive. Ironic how Bengalis (dependent upon the faith) preach prayers five times a day, modest clothing, and respect, but are increasingly shallow, and judgmental when reviewing a potential partner's “worth”.

The cycle of self-sacrifice is never ending for us. You're expected to help the family, financially, emotionally, and once you're 'of age', you're expected to self-sacrifice again - this time for your husband or wife. In the time Reba ended things, she was expected to find someone to marry. I had asked her why she rushed things, and she mentioned her age. She was 26, and was considered 'older.' Instead of being single, and figuring herself out, she quickly gave in the to cultural norm of 'young brides' and got married to a man she barely knew, which only led to a tumultuous relationship ending in separation.

We're expected to love our parents, and siblings and then our significant others, but we're barely pressed to love ourselves. Instead of taking the time to figure herself out, she was expected to self-sacrifice again, this time for an abusive husband with a gambling addiction. Money was always tight, but she made the effort make us feel like things were okay.

Every Saturday we'd wake up early and drop our clothes off at the laundromat. We'd take our mini cart to Subzi Mandi, buy groceries, drop those groceries off and then pick up our clothes. At the end of the day, she took us to McDonald's and we ate together. If she had more saved than usual, we'd get Happy Meals.

I see myself in my mom in a lot of ways. I'm just as extroverted as she is, we both like whiskey, and we're the glue that holds things together. Lately, she's been asking me to find someone new, someone to make into a husband - the same way she had been pressured to self sacrificing for someone. It's frustrating.

"Doya kori tomar valo jamai and chakri hok."

"I pray that you'll find a good husband and career."

It's infuriating for me to hear that "husband" comes before "career." And it shouldn't. I don't need a spouse in order to validate my existence. Neither did she, nor does anyone. My circle of friends and my job keep me busy, I read a lot, and I cook all the time. I'm not actively searching for anything. Moreso - I need time for myself. I need time to love myself for who I am a reflect on who I'm becoming as I enter my mid-twenties.

I can see the disconnect when I explain to her that I need to be alone right now. That I, as an individual, just need to be myself and build myself as a person. I've asked her, many times, if she would have left her marriage if she was more comfortable in herself, and financially able. She would have, but she didn't, given her fear of community backlash and lack of self acceptance. Maybe if she had waited after that first relationship, maybe if she had spent more time on herself and her career she could have prevented a lot of heartbreak, a lot of sacrifice.

In the end, it's a lot of maybes. We can't change the past, but only focus on the future now. She talks to a therapist and has come to terms with her life. She even influenced one of our Bengali neighbors to do the same. I could see it in her face, the level of understanding and self-acceptance that's come from the therapy and just talking to me and my sister.

Loving yourself and understanding yourself as a person surpasses cultural boundaries. Everyone, the family or the whole, benefits when the person is self aware in who they are. And even then, you aren't obligated to take the 'traditional' steps necessary in order to 'be happy', based on society's interpretation of 'normal.'

My mom, sister and I were sitting on our sectional when she looked up from her plate of rice and daal, and said, "Onek dine movie dheki nai, amra thinjon movie aar dinner khai akshate."

"We haven't watched a movie together in so long, let's eat dinner and watch a movie together, just the three of us!".