The Pursuit of Guilt-free Happiness
By Simi Aujla
Happiness at the simple cost of guilt. Is it a price you’re willing to pay? At first thought it might seem like an overexaggeration, but for many first generation children of immigrant households, this is an ever-present and pervasive feeling.
Growing up, I always felt like I lived the best of both worlds as a Panjabi-Canadian. I came from a culture rich with customs and traditions, music and food, existing as colourfully as the people within it. The collectivist nature of my ethnic heritage instilled within me a strong sense of identity centered around kinship and reliability; there was the promise that you’d never be abandoned, for wherever you went in the world, “apneh” would always be there: “our people.” These ideas, tangled with the concept of “seva” which translates to “selfless service” within the Sikh philosophy, taught me to show up for others as boldly as I would for myself, if not more. On the other hand, I had a blast growing up alongside my western peers within Canadian society that championed ideas of individualism, self-expression, and the power of the self, independent of all external influence. The thing about growing up in two different cultures, however, is that you might face expectations from both sides and find yourself unable commit 100% to either, often falling short when finding yourself on the edge of self-discovery. As someone who feels the need to please others in order to feel regulated herself, this may present to be a bit of an issue.
When I was a child, I would often hear the following phrase: “Everything that we do is for you.” In collectivist cultures, such as mine, this is not an uncommon thing to hear. At first, I felt flattered. I felt cared for. I felt privileged. As time went on, I began to observe. My parents lived a life of seemingly unending stress and hardship, and even as a young child I could feel that. Raising a family in a culture and country that isn’t your own brings an unimaginable type of stress I couldn’t even begin to conceptualize. This doesn’t include navigating the added stressors of daily life and work and interpersonal relationships. Whether it was my father working 16 hour shifts so that he could provide for us or my mum ensuring all of our needs were taken care of before her own, I was learning a very important lesson that I am working to unlearn even to this day: happiness is sacrifice at our expense. In other words, I was learning that my happiness was not my own. My family had sacrificed so much for me, and what felt like an honour and responsibility as a child, became suffocating as an adult. As a child, my happiness was reliant on and controlled by those around me. Naturally, the trusted adults in our life are largely responsible for our emotional regulation as young people. However, as we grow older that burden shifts into our own hands and we become responsible for regulating our own emotions and ensuring that we are joyful, content, and at peace. So, when I had all the power, when I had everything, I didn’t know what to do with it.
My conflicting feelings were only further enforced when my parents would say “as long as you’re happy, I am happy.” A noble sentiment, surely. So, I returned the favour, thinking that it was the least I could do to live my life in a way that would make my parents happy. By my logic, then I would be happy too, right? For a time, I thought I was fine to go on like this because it did fill me with pride and a sense of accomplishment, which were both positive feelings. But was ithappiness? I couldn’t be sure, and if I was doubtful, I feared that gave me my answer.
One day, I grew up and became that young twenty-something-year-old my parents were when they first began to sacrifice their happiness for me, and I was hit with the realization: I do not want that for myself. The fear of disappointing those around me when I so often relied on their happiness to fuel my own, frequently had me make decisions against my own sense of wellness. Against my own happiness. So no, I did not stay out past midnight with my friends as a teen doing things teens did. I did not go study abroad even though it was what I wanted. I did not pursue certain educational opportunities even locally, because I did not want to be a financial burden. I did not move out in my twenties, because “what about your mom?” So, when one grows into their own person, and begins to make choices for themselves for the first time in their life that might not lend to the happiness of another, we are presented with quite the issue.
A thought had come to me in my mid-twenties upon having watched all of my friends move away and abroad, pursuing their dreams and passions. They were creating identities for themselves, while I was beginning the process of dismantling mine. The feeling of selfishness that arises when trying to put one’s happiness and wellbeing before another’s, when all you’ve seen and been taught is the opposite, was inconceivable when having grown up the way I did. It felt like a betrayal to my family’s sacrifices, and quite frankly, it felt petrifying.
I still don’t know if happiness is a goal or just simply a state of being, but I have learned a few things. First and foremost, that it can be just one choice at a time. Whether it be eating a tray of cookies for dinner, or taking that solo trip you’d always envisioned yourself doing as a young person. Secondly, happiness is not a one-size-fits-all kind of thing. It looks different for everyone, and at the moment, happiness to me looks like courage. The courage to act, speak, or move differently. Being bold enough to say yes, or being brave enough to say no. Most importantly, happiness is subject to alchemy. It is ever-changing, and it can be whatever you want it to be. Today, for me it is a radical concept that is about driving change and pushing the parameters. It is about explosive vulnerability and braving the unknown despite my fears. One day, however, I hope that my happiness will look like peace, and until that day comes, that is what I will envision it as. Every choice I make for or towards it will lend to its adaptation, constantly re-shaping and rematerializing what joy and happiness is, until it becomes something comfortable and recognizable.
(Posted 1 Feb 2026)