What I Wish I Had Known About My Mother

My mom did the impossible. She fled Vietnam while pregnant with me and separated from my dad in the chaos. She was so strong-willed that without speaking any English, she brought all of her children to America safely, located my dad five years later, and was a master lie detector who kept her 14 kids in line. She dreamed of a better life for me. Instead of following her plan, I rebelled against the one person I wanted to impress. For my entire young adulthood, we couldn’t see eye to eye. My Vietnamese wasn’t good enough to keep up with her lectures, but her disapproval was clear. She saw me as the problem child: rebellious just to be rebellious, irresponsible, and a risk-taker with no regard for the family’s name. In my home, there was no room for self-discovery or making mistakes — but I was creative. I found ways to do both. My mom thought my mistakes were many: I didn’t live at home long enough. I moved out at age 17. I didn’t get a job after college. I couch surfed for months not knowing what to do with a neuroscience degree. I didn’t go to medical school. I spent years going broke to pursue a Ph.D. I didn’t marry a Vietnamese Buddhist. I married interracial and interreligious. I didn’t honor traditional gender roles. I focused on building my career before raising a family. I didn’t stick to one job. I took risks and didn’t always have a plan. I was expected to follow a blueprint for success intricately tied to 1950s Vietnamese culture, and I didn’t. I forged my own path. I didn’t feel loved, understood, or supported throughout that chapter of my life. No matter how well-intentioned, the people who love us most will often project their dreams, fears, and beliefs onto us. Years later, after a period of calling hospitals and rehabilitation centers her second home, my mom’s body started shutting down due to kidney failure. During our last deep conversation, she took me by surprise. She told me that I had chosen to live a life far more rewarding than she had dreamed for me when she fled Vietnam praying for safety for her family. It was the first instance she expressed pride in who I was. I was 32 years old. Soon after that moment, my mom died. Since then, I’ve spent a lot of time looking back and gaining clarity around our relationship. As a mother myself, I now see why my mom was up in arms when I couldn’t give her an address to visit or a phone number to call during my couch-surfing days. I recognize that she was also struggling, on an even grander scale, to not lose her Vietnamese heritage, and how my independent nature felt like a part of that loss. There are so many things about my mom I wish I’d known sooner. My experience, I also know, is not rare. What often feels like unrequited love between immigrant parents and their first-generation children is common, yet even more commonly, it is not openly discussed. If any of this sounds familiar to you — if you feel pressured by your parents to live a lifestyle that doesn’t fit with who you are — here are three things I wish I’d known back when I was in your position. For those who are interested in salvaging the relationship, consider this advice. I know, for me, it would have added up to more valuable time with my mom, helped me reserve my energy, and allowed me to experience more joy while paving my personal and professional paths. 1) I wish I had known that my mom was strong, but equally vulnerable. I grew up thinking I had it hard as a bicultural kid trying to fit in with my American peers. In reality, my parents had it much harder. They were not only learning how to live in a country where they didn’t speak the native language, but they also were raising 14 children in an entirely new culture. They were struggling to honor their heritage and traditions — one of the few things that brought them joy and comfort. I wish I had known that beneath my mom’s tough façade was a vulnerable woman who wanted to belong in her self reliant, American-born child’s life. I wish I had asked more questions. I wish I had recognized that she didn’t have the language to explain herself in a way I was willing to examine or receive. I would have shown my mom more grace, and though I may not have agreed with her, I would have appreciated her intentions. What I know now No matter how well-intentioned, the people who love us most will often project their dreams, fears, and beliefs onto us. In my experience, this is especially common for children of first-generation immigrants, many of whom face significant pressures to lead better lives in return for the sacrifices their parents have made. The truth is that your parents probably don’t understand you. You likely don’t understand them either. Their expectations may seem irrational, unsupportive, or narrow-minded, but underneath all this is often love — just not expressed in the way that you want. If not managed, your disagreements can lead to resentment, or as in my case, estrangement. There are emotional consequences to this and carrying that weight will only wear you out as you try to forge a path forward. Mending a naturally strained relationship is going to take time. Before you can delve deeper and tackle the hard stuff, you need to build a foundation of empathy, compassion, and good communication. What you can do differently Focus on understanding your parents as people before addressing the topic that is causing tension. Once you build a foundation of empathy and compassion, everything is possible, including peace, understanding, and reconciliation. Don’t let stereotypes steer your narrative, like my mom and I did. Your parents, like you, have perspectives that are informed by their generation, culture, age, stage in life, and personalities. Just like you, they are guided by their experiences. As immigrants, they have endured a lot and have a lot of wisdom to share. You both need to shed your misconceptions to have respectful conversations and grow. To make sure no one feels invisible or isolated, signal trust and appreciation through your words and actions when it feels right. Start small. Touch base with your parents when you can. Make time for important family moments even if it’s just a 10-minute video call. Simple gestures like smiles and hugs can penetrate deeply. I made it a point to give my mom a hug before leaving her house. I might have felt angry or sad leading up to the hug, but I always felt worse after letting her go. Express gratitude towards your parents — an easy way to make them feel loved that will benefit you as well. Think of times when you have been most satisfied with their support. Be specific (“Thank you for cooking dinner for me tonight. I know you were tired. It means a lot to me.”) rather than giving blanket statements (“I’m thankful for you.”). If you don’t have the kind of relationship where you can verbally express your feelings, try keeping a journal to bring to mind moments when your parents have supported you over the years. When it feels right, express your love in any way that feels authentic to your relationship (a simple card to say “I love you,” a surprise visit, or pitching in to cook dinner). 2) I wish I had known how to have tough conversations respectfully. When it came to tackling the harder conversations, as a young adult, I was overcome by fear. Fear of not saying things perfectly, fear of awkward silences, fear of failing to convince my mom to change her mind, and most of all, fear of not feeling understood or loved. When I visited home, my mom would often ask tough questions about my life and my plans. I feared my answers would, again, let her down. To ease my anxieties, I built up walls before my visits. I replayed our old arguments in my mind, rehearsed new ones, and came up with defenses for my lifestyle. In my imagination, I was the vulnerable victim and my mom was the irrational villain. Once the real conversation began, I was already riled up, and this did not serve either of us. I spoke too fast, said things that she could not follow, shut down, and left wanting a do-over. I can still picture her reactions to my rapid ramblings. At the time, it seemed she was brushing me aside as I poured out my heart and soul. Today, I understand her reaction as a genuine display of confusion. She never fully understood or was prepared for my convictions. I wish I had known that I was my greatest obstacle. What I know now Tough conversations are tough because you can’t predict what the other person will say or how they will react to what you say. There is, however, one thing you can control: yourself. You have the agency to decide what you want to get out of a difficult discussion with your parents and to frame your argument in a way that will set you up to receive it. You also have the agency to decide what you don’t want to discuss, what is a boundary, and what is off limits. Ultimately, your goal should be to walk away knowing that you were respectful and showed integrity. You can only control what you say and how you say it — not what your parents say or do next. In my case, I wanted understanding. It would have been wise for me to explain my lifestyle to my mom through the context of our shared values, to show that I was pursuing my goals with the same grit, growth mindset, and resilience she taught me as a child. But I was moving too fast. I was too scared, too angry, and too defensive to initiate that conversation. What you can do differently Remember that your energy is limited and you have the right to choose when, how, and if you want to discuss your life with your parents. Setting boundaries early on — deciding whether you’re open to receiving advice, which parts of your life you will share, and which parts you will not — will help. If you decide to hash it out, I recommend giving your parents a heads up, as opposed to surprising them with a panicked phone call or visit. To avoid alarm, be clear about what you want to discuss and reiterate that you value their perspective. You may find this general structure useful: Mention a time and place: “Do you have time to have lunch with me at home this Saturday?” Be clear about what you want to discuss: “I got a job offer I’m really excited about because it will allow me to develop leadership skills and it pays well, but I’d have to move to Chicago.” Show that you value them: “I know there are a lot of nonstop flights between Chicago and home, but I’m still a little concerned. Talking through this offer with you would really help calm my nerves.” Before meeting, jot down some notes about what your end goal is. Be careful, though, not to rehash old narratives that no longer serve you. Go into the conversation to share something about your life rather than to seek approval for your choices. Your parents will be less likely to question or judge you, but if they do, try not to get defensive. The reality is that your boundaries will not always be respected. Sometimes, you will get unsolicited advice, and in these moments, you can choose to reserve your energy by practicing deep listening. Let your parents empty their hearts and minds, knowing that it’s not easy for them to watch you step into the unfamiliar. Take a deep breath to gain clarity before you respond. If you can link the values driving your choices to just a couple of the values your parents taught you growing up (resilience, honesty, etc.), you may find a way to align. This is even more true if you have already built that foundation of compassion. Ultimately, your goal should be to walk away knowing that you were respectful and showed integrity. You can only control what you say and how you say it — not what your parents say or do next. 3) I wish I had known that it didn’t have to be all or nothing. The subject of values leads me to my last point: My household upheld traditional Vietnamese values — and for most of my life, I thought I had to as well. Men were more important than women, my mom was the gatekeeper to our happiness, and older family members had authority over younger members. Being female, the youngest, and the only American-born paved the way for me to feel like a tightly tethered outsider. I was so busy trying to break free that I failed to realize my mom’s playbook was not that different than mine. She, like I, valued family. For her, that meant living at home until she was married to connect with her loved ones and prepare to raise children. For me, it meant showing up and being fully present in important moments. My mom, like I, also valued virtue. She taught me that failure is an opportunity for growth, but she was equally pained to watch me stumble, fall, and fight my own battles. Perhaps our greatest shared value was our independence. We both created our own opportunities. She found creative ways to make money, to put food on the table and clothes on our backs. I worked hard to discover my identity independent of my family. Such was the luxury of her paving the way for me to plan beyond survival. It took my losing her to realize that lurking behind all the heated discussions was a deep admiration. When I was younger, I thought our values needed to manifest in the same ways, and if they didn’t, I needed to lean into the discomfort, pull myself together, and prove that my way was right. It was exhausting. Looking back at the milestones of my life — graduating from college, going to graduate school, and getting engaged — by the time I reached them, I was emotionally, physically and cognitively burned out. I couldn’t fully extract joy from those occasions. I wish I had known that I didn’t have to honor everything about my mom and her heritage, that I could sift through her beliefs and practices, respect everything, but only practice those that fit my future self. I wish I had the confidence to explain this to her, and myself, earlier in my life, rather than shutting her out or harboring resentment. What I know now Discovering your true self, independent from your parents’ identity, doesn’t always require you to rebel to extremes. In my case, I rebelled against family when I was younger to declare my independence, but family has always been the essence of my being. It never felt right to be estranged. I made the mistake of thinking I either had to give up my goals or give into hers. In your own life, be mindful of this. What are you giving up that you don’t want to give up? Are those actions driven by your core beliefs, by spite, or by fear? Are you burning yourself out, and if so, what do you need? Sometimes the answer may be space. Other times, it may be to have a difficult conversation. What you can do differently Filter through your family values and look for the ones that you share with your parents. Honor those, knowing that while you may have control over how your values manifest, you are also inherently bound to your family through your culture and upbringing. Don’t let your ego drive you. Let your actions be guided by the things that inspire you. When you do this without shame, you’ll achieve more lasting happiness. If you’re like me, for example, you may have spent your whole life trying to belong and feel appreciated by your parents. Instead of shutting them out when you disagree or leaning in so hard that you become disappointed — both of which may lead to emotional burnout — consider this wild idea: compromise. One way you can do this is to make yourself dispensable. Invest time in your relationship with your parents, but do so with the intention of helping them let go of the past and adjust to the future. Empower them to be as independent as you are. For instance, plan a low-key get together at your place where your parents can see where you live and get to know your friends. If that’s too big of a leap for them, ask your parents if you can host at their house. They might feel more comfortable meeting new people in a familiar environment. Be transparent that you want to introduce them to other important people in your life. These kinds of efforts always made my mom feel appreciated, especially when she could cook for us and teach us about Vietnamese culture through her love language, food. Finally, pay attention to the energy you’re exerting on this journey. You can take a break if you need one. A break just means you care enough about the relationship to gain clarity around it. If you wait until you burn out, like I did, you will eventually reach a breaking point, at which time you will need a much longer break. Life is short and precious. Dial back a little and give yourself what you need when you need it. Honor your parents in ways that allow you to live your truth. Arguing for a lifestyle your parents disagree with can feel unsafe, and even devastating. While these conflicts may operate on a spectrum depending on your relationship with your family, largely, they are often the source of major anxiety. So I’ll leave you with this: If you are living your truth, hold strong. My mom and I might have clashed, but underneath it all, there was an undeniable love and a strong commitment to our shared values. We were both vulnerable enough to yearn to belong and feel accepted by the other person. Ironically, we were also strong-willed women who couldn’t be told how to live our lives. We were authentic, even when we were misunderstood, by others and each other. It took my losing her to realize that lurking behind all the heated discussions was a deep admiration. Your relationship with your parents deserves patience, time, and energy to nurture, but your primary goal should be to nurture your well-being, inner peace, and positive self regard. Start by extending this grace to yourself, and eventually, you may be able to extend it to your family as well. I wish I had known this sooner than later.

What I Wish I Had Known About My Mother

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