I’m Aarthi, a recently graduated physician, lifelong eldest daughter, and your official dispenser of unsolicited wisdom. I’ve been giving big-sister advice long before I had a medical degree to back it up. Raised in a South Indian family where “figuring it out” was the default eldest daughter job description, I’ve survived it all, from cultural pressure to curfews to career crises.

Now, I’m turning the mic on and teaming up with fellow Akkas to crowdsource the advice we wish we’d had (but ended up giving anyway). Think of it as group therapy, but with more side-eye, snacks, and some lovingly delivered judgement.

Whether you’re an oldest daughter, have one, or desperately need one, we’ve got unsolicited opinions, emotional support, and a few spicy takes just for you.

I’m Dharshini and I work in Employee Relations. I may be the youngest of this trio, but trust me, my advice is no less unsolicited. Growing up in a Tamil household as the older sister was honestly a mix of chaos, comedy, and character development I did not sign up for. Between juggling endless expectations, decoding double standards, surviving family WhatsApp politics, and constantly walking that tightrope between tradition and independence, I’ve seen it all.

I've helped my Amma write emails that somehow turn into life lectures, defended my life choices to every “curious” relative, and tried (and failed) to set boundaries without sounding ‘disrespectful’.

But honestly, being a Tamil daughter and sister is something I wouldn’t trade for the anything in the world.  We carry the drama, the duty, and the deep love, all while trying to keep our sanity intact. It’s messy, it’s hilarious, and somehow, it’s still the best part of who I am.

I’m Ponni. Between hustling for my startup, managing two middle schoolers with Olympic-level schedules, and organizing “quick” family plans that somehow require a baseline of ten people, I’ve learned that chaos + accountability = community. 

As the eldest among all the cousins, I’m either the blueprint or the cautionary tale thanks to a lot of Big Firsts, including my favorite boundary-breaker: marrying my white husband. 

I give advice (lovingly, often unsolicited), take it (eventually). I run quiet triage, translating between South Indian roots and American reality, guiding the next generation into finding their lane. It would be easy to shrink into our little nuclear bubble, but Tamil family life doesn’t really allow for “small.” That overbearing, in-your-face love? It’s the same safety net we all free-fall into when things get messy. Even when my advice lands sideways, the conversation cracks something open and we all grow, me included.