"I remind you as a firstborn daughter that you were never meant to carry it all alone.
You deserve to be seen, heard and supported
Without judgment, and always with love"
- Issa
My government name is Melissa. But most people call me Issa...
Born in the '80s to Caribbean parents. Raised in West London. The firstborn daughter.
And if you know… you know.
Being first meant being responsible early. "Mature for your age," they'd say — which was really just a polite way of describing a child who'd already learned to carry weight quietly, read a room before she'd even walked into it, and make sure everyone else was okay before she'd checked on herself.
In every friend group, there's that one. The one everyone calls. The one who holds it together, hands out the advice, stays steady when everything's shaking. That was always me.
But, I was also the joker. Forever bussin' (telling) jokes, finding the humour in the hard stuff, telling everyone to "tek (take) it easy". Because sometimes laughter is the only language that fits.
What I didn't talk about was what was happening underneath all of that.
Coming from a Caribbean household, you learn early: don't chat yuh (your) business. You keep things in, you show up strong, and you keep it pushing. And when bottling things up becomes normal? Silence becomes survival. Survival becomes identity. And before long, you don't even know who you are without the weight.
It wasn't until the pandemic that I was forced to really look at that. With nothing to distract me and a global situation completely out of my control, I sat with myself, properly, fully, for the first time ever. And what I found there was a woman I didn't fully recognise - and couldn't keep ignoring.
So, off I went to therapy, and therapy cracked something open. I began to see that I didn't always have to be the strong one. That strength and softness aren't opposites, they're partners. That hyper-independence isn't freedom. It's protection. And protection, eventually, becomes a prison.
So I started healing out loud. Sharing more. Letting myself be supported, for once, instead of always being the supporter.
And that journey brought me here...
I'm a Firstborn Daughter Coach, certified Wellness Practitioner, a Mental Health First Aider, with additional training in Mental Health Awareness, Neuroscience & Trauma. Not because my chest is high, but because I wanted to understand myself deeply enough to genuinely help myself. Now I am abe to support women who recognise their story in mine. Women like the one I used to be.
My approach is holistic, heart-led, and grounded in nervous system regulation.
Because real healing isn't just mindset work. It's learning to live in your body again, challenge the stories you inherited, and slowly, deliberately, move yourself back towards the top of your own list.
And this space? It was built by a woman who needed it - for women who need it too.
FREE RESOURCE
5 Signs You've Been Playing the Strong One Too Long
A short, honest guide for the firstborn daughter who has been the strong one for so long, she's forgotten what it feels like to put herself first.