We, the Eldest Daughters: Elphaba’s Reflection in Us

The eldest daughter often grows up with invisible weight on her shoulders. She is the caretaker, the responsible one, the quiet backbone of the family. This role is rarely chosen; it is formatted into her being, shaping her identity before she even understands it. In Elphaba, the green-skinned witch of Wicked, we find a mirror, a character whose rebellion and compassion echo the hidden lives of eldest daughters everywhere.

The Eldest Daughter Syndrome

Eldest daughters are often expected to protect, nurture, and sacrifice. They become second mothers, guardians, and emotional anchors. This responsibility is not always resented, but it is deeply rooted, almost systemic. As one eldest daughter reflects: “I was formatted to take care of my younger sibling… not that I’m complaining, but it shaped me.”

This syndrome is not just about duty; it is about identity. It teaches eldest daughters to notice who needs help, to feel empathy for the oppressed, and to carry burdens that others overlook.

Elphaba as Eldest Daughter, She embodies this archetype in striking ways:

• Caretaker role: She protects her sister Nessarose, whose disability makes her vulnerable.

• Burden without recognition: Though she shoulders responsibility, she is never the “golden child.” Her difference marks her as an outsider.

• Empathy for the oppressed: Her activism against the Wizard’s regime mirrors the eldest daughter’s instinct to defend those who cannot defend themselves.

• Sacrifice: She risks herself repeatedly for others, carrying responsibility beyond her family into the wider world.

Elphaba is the eldest daughter who turns duty into defiance, responsibility into rebellion.

Different Parents, Different Childhoods:

• Nessa is adored and protected by their father, Frex, largely because of her disability. She receives sympathy, attention, and indulgence.

• Elphaba, by contrast, is marginalized for her green skin and treated as an outsider, despite being the one who shoulders responsibility.

Sibling divergence:

Though they share the same household, their “parents” are effectively different versions of Frex and their mother, indulgent with Nessa, dismissive with Elphaba. This explains why their personalities and choices diverge so sharply: Nessa clings to control, while Elphaba rebels for freedom.

Why Does This Matters?

This psychological insight strengthens the theme: eldest daughters often feel they grew up in a different family than their siblings. Elphaba embodies that she is the eldest daughter who carries responsibility without recognition, while Nessa is the younger sibling who receives care without effort. Their dynamic illustrates how different childhoods under one roof can shape radically different identities.

Dreams That Aren’t Ours

• Madame Morrible’s recognition: Instead of thinking about what she wants, Elphaba immediately frames her dream around others, making her father proud, making her sister less embarrassed.

• Selfless ambition: Her hopes are shaped by external approval, not internal desire. She dreams of fixing how others see her, rather than imagining what would make her truly happy.

• Invisible sacrifice: This reflects the eldest daughter’s reality: even in dreaming, she carries responsibility. Her imagination is formatted to serve others’ happiness, not her own.

Eldest Daughter Reality

• Many eldest daughters don’t know what pure, self-centered happiness looks like. Their dreams are filtered through the lens of family duty, sibling care, or parental pride.

• The idea of dreaming without considering others feels foreign, even selfish. So their ambitions often become about recognition, harmony, or easing burdens, rather than joy for themselves.

• Elphaba embodies this paradox: her rebellion later in the story is radical precisely because it’s the first time she dreams for herself, not for others.

Glinda vs. Nessarose: Who Is the Sister?

The phrase “the blood of the covenant is thicker than the water of the womb” is often misunderstood. People usually quote the shortened version (“blood is thicker than water”) to mean family ties are strongest. But the fuller version flips that meaning: it suggests that chosen bonds (the covenant) can be stronger than biological ones (the womb)

The Oz Dust Ballroom: A Sister Found

In the Oz Dust scene, Elphaba’s oppression is contrasted with Nessarose’s privilege. Though Nessarose is a person with a disability, she receives attention and care without asking, while Elphaba is marginalized for her difference. It is Glinda (not Nessa) who rescues Elphaba through the dance.

That moment is more than kindness; it is sisterhood. Elphaba, embarrassed and excluded, finds in Glinda the sister she never truly had in Nessa. Where Nessa turns away, Glinda steps in. The dance becomes a symbolic adoption: Elphaba is no longer alone.

Elphaba finds in Glinda the sister she never truly had in Nessa. Their covenant, forged in trust, shared secrets, and acts of liberation, becomes thicker than the water of the womb. It shows that chosen bonds can surpass blood ties, especially when family fails to provide the love and acceptance one needs.

Critics often call Glinda spoiled, entitled, or shallow. And yes, she can be people-pleasing and performative. But beneath that, she reflects, grows, and acknowledges her mistakes. She is flawed, but she is capable of care.

Nessarose, by contrast, often uses her deficiencies to win sympathy. She is embarrassed by Elphaba, yet receives endless attention. In this way, Nessa is more spoiled than Glinda. Elphaba’s oppression is heavier, because she bears responsibility without recognition, while Nessa absorbs care without gratitude.

Thus, Glinda, imperfect though she is, later becomes the better sister to Elphaba. She offers what Nessa never does: acceptance, companionship, and eventually, freedom.

Attention & Selfhood

• Nessa: Constantly centers herself, even in moments with Elphaba, she redirects the spotlight to her own experiences for example: on the first day at Shiz, instead of sharing the moment with Elphaba or acknowledging her presence, Nessa makes it about her own situation and needs. Later, before the Oz Dust Ballroom, she again shifts the focus by telling Elphaba about Boq, reinforcing the pattern that her experiences take precedence.

• Glinda: Loves attention too, but she knows how to pause and give someone else a moment. In the scene before the song “Popular”, she listens to Elphaba’s deepest secret, something Elphaba never shared with Nessa.

Contrast: Glinda’s attention-seeking is tempered by empathy; Nessa’s is consumed by self-interest.

Defying Gravity: Freedom as Sisterhood

The “Defying Gravity” sequence crystallizes this dynamic. Glinda, ambitious and torn, ultimately sets Elphaba free. That act is profound: she chooses Elphaba’s liberation over her own comfort. It is something Nessa would never do.

Here, Glinda proves herself as the sister Elphaba deserves. Their bond transcends blood. It is chosen, tested, and ultimately sanctified by freedom.

Eldest Daughter Beyond Blood

When Nessarose dies, Elphaba’s role as eldest sister does not vanish. Instead, it shifts. She continues to embody the elder-sister archetype, this time toward Glinda. Without either of them realizing it, Elphaba cares for Glinda as she once did for Nessa, guiding, protecting, and leaving her with the strength to lead.

This is the eldest daughter’s paradox: even when rejected, even when burdened, she continues to care. Her rebellion does not erase her responsibility; it transforms it into chosen love.

Rebellion as Reflection

One of the most poignant moments in Wicked is when Elphaba leaps from the building and sees her younger self reflected back. That image suggests her rebellion is not rejection, but reflection of a return to her pure heart.

For eldest daughters, rebellion often comes when the weight becomes too much. It is not selfishness, but survival. It is the realization: we have a life to live.

Elphaba’s leap is both a reaction to unfair burdens and an extension of her deepest responsibility which is to protect, to care, but on her own terms.

There is power in saying we.

We, the eldest daughters, know the invisible labor we carry. We know the empathy that shapes us, the instinct to defend the vulnerable, the quiet sacrifices that define our childhoods. And we know the snap, the moment we reclaim our lives, refusing to be trapped by expectations.

Elphaba’s story is not just hers. It is ours. Her rebellion is our reflection. Her leap is our liberation.

Conclusion:

The eldest daughters are partly Elphaba. We are caretakers, rebels, witches, and healers. We carry burdens, but we also transform them into compassion and defiance. In Elphaba’s green skin, we see our own invisible weight made visible. In her leap, we see our own courage to live beyond duty. We, the eldest daughters, are reflections of her and she, in turn, reflects us.

Her story is not only about oppression and rebellion. It is about sisterhood, the kind that is found, chosen, and redefined. For eldest daughters, this resonates deeply. We know the weight of responsibility, the sting of being overlooked, and the quiet power of caring even when it costs us.

Glinda, not Nessa, becomes Elphaba’s true sister. And in that bond, we see ourselves: eldest daughters who carry, who rebel, and who love beyond duty.

In addition, Elphaba’s story is also the story of loving a world that refuses to love you back. When she sees the Animals escaping and remembers her nanny, Dulcibear, she admits: “She loves the world so much but it didn’t love her.” That word “world” can be read as family, school, and society itself. From her father’s favoritism, to Shiz’s ridicule, to the Wizard’s betrayal, every sphere she gave herself to rejected her. And yet, she kept loving, kept fighting, kept carrying responsibility. For eldest daughters, this truth resonates deeply: our dreams, our hopes, our sacrifices often serve others before ourselves. We love the world, even when it does not love us. And like Elphaba, our rebellion becomes the moment we stop waiting for that love and choose to live on our own terms.