Content creator Kimberly Munz finally named something in therapy that millions of Latinas could spend a lifetime trying to pinpoint. She shared that she realized in therapy that “because our Hispanic mothers told us ‘ponte a hacer algo, ponte a barrer, limpiar, etc.’ whenever we were resting or relaxing, has caused us to have high functioning anxiety.”
I had to pause the vid to digest the weight of that realization. I rewound my mental cassette and remembered the frustration I felt with my mother every time she said the exact same thing. Now, as an adult, and very much aligned with Kimberly, I understand that conditioning has shaped my work ethic and my nervous system.
What’s worse, we Latinas grew up with the conviction that these mechanisms were badges of honor. And the consequences? We manage them so well—because we show up, we deliver, we don’t fall apart—nobody notices we’re drowning.
So, let’s call a spade a spade, shall we?
What high-functioning anxiety looks like to the outside world
One thing I found in my research is that high-functioning anxiety isn’t a clinical diagnosis. It doesn’t appear in the DSM-5, the diagnostic manual used by mental health professionals. Instead, according to the Mayo Clinic, most people with high-functioning anxiety are actually diagnosed with generalized anxiety disorder, even if they don’t completely fit the stereotype.
To a stranger, or even to family, a person with high-functioning anxiety appears competent. They seem organized, dependable, and proactive. They meet their deadlines and manage their careers. Hell, they even volunteer. But beneath that surface, according to the Mayo Clinic, they’re wrestling with persistent feelings of stress, self-doubt, and the fear of not measuring up. It’s the persistent discomfort of significant self-criticism.
Then, HelpGuide, a nonprofit health resource, offers a beautiful metaphor: it describes it as living like a duck on water: everything above the surface appears calm and relaxed, but underneath, there’s a constant whir of hectic paddling. People with high-functioning anxiety could experience racing thoughts, chronic worry, self-doubt, difficulty relaxing, or a persistent fear of failure despite their success. They may experience headaches, sleep problems, muscle tension, or stomach upset. However, because they’re managing, because they’re still functioning, nobody sees there’s an issue.
The Latina-specific roots of high-functioning anxiety
Sandra Arboleda, a Latina licensed clinical social worker who works with Latina and immigrant communities, sees this pattern daily in her practice. “Part of this stems from growing up in environments where rest or stillness was sometimes judged,” she explains. “For many of us, taking a break wasn’t considered healthy or necessary. Instead, it was often viewed as being lazy, selfish, or not contributing enough.”
From childhood, many Latinas learn to be responsible, productive, helpful, strong, and emotionally contained. A survival inheritance, if you will. And, hey, we get it. Many Latino parents were raising their children through resource scarcity, immigration, and their own trauma. For us, the children, being hardworking was how you proved you deserved to be there, how you made your parents’ sacrifice mean something, but, most importantly, how you made sure you didn’t burden anyone.
Ligia Orellana, an LMFT and anxiety specialist working in Los Angeles, gave me a different perspective, although she sees the same truth: “For many First Gen and BIPOC folks, especially within Latinx culture, emotions were minimized, and productivity was the primary way to earn safety and belonging.” When staying busy, achieving more, and taking care of everyone else becomes the coping strategy, rest starts to feel strange, uncomfortable, and even unsafe. Allowing yourself to need support can feel like failing expectations that were handed to you before you could speak.
The cultural systems that drive this are astonishingly real and specific. Familismo teaches Latinas to prioritize family needs over their own. Marianismo and the perpetuation of the Madonna-whore complex demand self-sacrifice, moral superiority, and the ability to endure suffering silently, yet looking gorgeous. Perfectionism doesn’t require merely success, but the appearance of ease.
Why the medical system misses it in Latinas
Once more, Latinas’ experiences fall into the health system’s blind spot. According to Cleveland Clinic psychologist Adam Borland, the primary difference between high-functioning anxiety and generalized anxiety disorder is how a person responds. With GAD, people tend toward the “fight or flight” response. They might try to remove themselves from situations that trigger their anxiety. With high-functioning anxiety, the response is more “fight”: a person pushes themselves to work harder to combat the anxiety.
God, by now, you should call us superheroes, then. We show up, don’t complain, and perform with such competence that doctors, therapists, and loved ones don’t think to look any closer. What’s worse, Kate Sheehan, managing director of UCLA CARES, an anxiety awareness program, notes that many high-achievers with moderate to severe anxiety don’t know what it feels like to live without their anxiety. They believe their anxiety is a necessary part of their success. They work hard to make their achievements seem natural and easy.
At one point, we trick ourselves so well that it’s easy to overlook the symptoms. Latinas might dismiss their negative thoughts, feelings of unease, and difficulty relaxing as simply “the price of success.” For many, being stressed and anxious all the time is so normal that it just feels like being alive. And if being a Latina meant learning not to burden others with your struggles, asking for help can feel like the ultimate betrayal of everything you were taught.
What Latinas are actually experiencing beneath the functioning
Arboleda expanded on what high-functioning anxiety looks like from the inside: overthinking, constant internal pressure, being dependable but resentful, and managing everything while feeling deeply stuck. Many Latinas don’t slow down long enough to notice the toll until someone close to them says something, or they find themselves at the edge of burnout. By then, it’s been years.
Or, as it is in my case, you snap, pack your bags, and move to the middle of nowhere.
And the physical toll is just as real. According to UCLA Health, anxiety shows up as back and neck pain, headaches, increased heart rate, insomnia, shortness of breath, stomach upset, and chronic tension. High-functioning anxiety may cause burnout, digestive issues, elevated blood pressure, and an increased risk of depression.
But here’s what Arboleda emphasizes. “Many Latinas receive praise for their ability to function, but no one considers the cost of that functioning.” Ergo, we are noted for our resilience, while our exhaustion is treated as a character strength. We are told we’re so strong, so capable, so dependable. And no one asks if we want to be any of those things.
The system that reinforces it
From the micro to the macro, high-functioning anxiety in Latinas is also a cultural and structural issue. We are raised to manage it silently, yes. We are praised for managing it well. But then, we are punished for daring to ask for support. Orellana describes this trap: “There is immense pride in being the strong one, the responsible one, the achiever, until it starts to feel heavy. There is also guilt in thinking about stepping away from those roles, which leads to many struggling to get support.”
The medical system doesn’t catch what it can’t see. When high-functioning anxiety presents as ambition, reliability, and success, it’s nearly impossible for a clinician to spot without specific cultural knowledge and the right questions. Latinas may have believed for so long that their worth depends on their productivity that they don’t even bring up their anxiety unless directly asked. And even then, they might minimize it because the shame is too heavy. We end up dressing it up as commitment, or, in the worst cases, reframing our suffering as proof of love.
Recognition is not resolution, but it’s a first step
Kimberly Munzz’s reel was a huge reckoning moment, for her and for all of us who came across it. We recognized how our mother’s voice became our own internal critic, and it’s a huge first step. But acknowledgment alone changes nothing. Knowing why you’re anxious doesn’t stop your heart from racing at rest, at least not for me.
What I think changes is when we Latinas start to understand that our anxiety isn’t our fault, and that healing doesn’t require abandoning our culture. It requires interrogating which parts of our inheritance serve us and which quietly kill us. It means examining why survival is treated as a virtue.
For my part, this is where I plan to start. Not managing anxiety more quietly, but building a relationship with rest that doesn’t feel like failure. God knows it will be hard, but I’d rather not work harder to prove my worth every single day and try to put my feet up once a weekend without feeling I need to be doing something productive.
In the end, I want to be allowed to be something other than strong. Don’t you?
Wow! You just wrote my entire life in this article! Thank you for clarifying what ails me. I intend to pursue healing. Mil Gracias.