All parents want the best for their children. This is a common meme, so it must be true, right? I happen to think it’s not true, but I will say that most parents want what they think is best for their children. I am using that as the basis for the rest of this blog entry, so I wanted it to be as broad and general as possible.
I am mulling on this because my dad is here. My dad is the president of the premiere economic research institute of Taiwan. He travels around the world, giving speeches on economic…stuff. When he is in America, he “swings” through Minnesota to visit me, my bro, and the grandchildren. He’s leaving tomorrow for D.C. for an economic conference. By the by, if he gets to meet President Obama, I will be totally jealous.
Ahem. Back to the subject at hand. My mom is the foremost sandplay therapist in Taiwan. In fact, she brought sandplay therapy to Taiwan. She is currently teaching the therapy techniques to counselors, social workers, and psychologists, and she has a 2-year waiting list. They both have published books and papers in their respective fields.
In other words, they are fucking impressive people. In addition, as I have mentioned before, my father is one of the prime movers and shakers in the Taiwanese Independence Movement. Funny aside, I met a guy who was named Tim by his parents–after the movement. To put it kindly, they were fanatics about an independent Taiwan. Aside over.
When I was growing up, it was assumed that I would go to college, then grad school, get my Ph.D., start a stellar career, get married, have children. I would go to church every Sunday, and I would have…um, tea parties? No. That no longer means what it used to mean. Gatherings. Socials. Whatever the fuck married people do. This was the blueprint of my life, as impressed upon me throughout my childhood.
Fast-forward thirty years. I am not married, and I don’t have children. I am an agnostic-deist, and I’m bisexual. I only go to church when it’s something important to my brother (such as his children’s baptisms), and even then, I do it with gritted teeth. I have been a slacker in the job department, and I don’t have a Ph.D. in anything. I do have an MA in Writing & Consciousness, but it has done me jack-all good.
In short, I am an abject failure by my parents’ standards. Throw in the fact that I’m fat (read, lazy and undisciplined), and you can see why I am the black sheep of the family. Curiously enough, though, my brother thinks he’s the black sheep because he only has a BA. He is married, has three children, is gainfully employed, and is a Christian. I tend to think of him as the dutiful one out of the two of us, and it’s interesting that he doesn’t agree.
My mom has stressed to me that the most important thing in her life is being a mother. She has also said that her marriage with my father has given her so much room to grow. When I turned 26, she commented that she had been married and had my brother by that point in her life. When I turned 34, I informed her that I was approaching the wrong side of 35 (apparently, it is the worst thing in life to try to have a baby after 35), and she said I still had time. She’s told me, with tears in her eyes, that there is something special about the mother-daughter bond when the daughter has children. She has told me that she would move back to America to take care of any kid I had. I overheard her tell my brother a Taiwanese saying about the children of the son vs the children of the daughter and how she’s sad that she doesn’t have the latter. She has repeatedly told me that having children is an experience like no other.
Her latest? She half-jokingly told me I could adopt a black baby to match my cats. She still hasn’t let go of the hope that I will procreate, and it’s telling that for a second, I considered having a kid in order to make her happy. Fortunately, I recognized that particular piece of insanity for what it was and didn’t act on the impulse. However, it grinds away at me.
Last time she was here, she asked me if I’d rethought my position on marriage. I said no, and she talked about how her marriage with my father had helped her grow spiritually. She tried to find a way in which I would find marriage palatable, ending with this, “What if there was a guy who was willing to take care of you and treat you well for the rest of your life?” I said that he could do that without us getting married. I also added that as long as I couldn’t marry a woman, I wasn’t going to marry a man. She has pretty much given up on bugging me to procreate, but she hasn’t given up pushing her marriage agenda.
It gets me down. Even though that’s not a life I want, it bothers me that I can’t give my parents what they want. I can’t help thinking how they looked at me when I was a baby and dreamed of all I could be. Now, they must look at me and see all that I’m not. I’m not married. I don’t have children. I don’t have a fabulous career. I’m not skinny and ravishingly beautiful. I’m not a Christian, and I don’t pray to the Christian God. What’s more, I don’t want most of the things. I would take the fabulous career and being skinny, but I have no desire for the rest.
When I am feeling feistier, I remind myself that I’ve had plenty of experiences that they will never have, either. I remind myself that what they want for me is not what I want for myself. I don’t want to get married and have children. I don’t have any desire to be a Christian, even if that means going to hell (per my niece). I don’t want to be a money manager or an accountant. That is not me. I have to carve out my own path, no matter how long it takes.
On my bad days, though, all I can think about is how much I’ve failed them and (in true Asian fashian) how I’ve shamed them. That’s awfully hard for me to take.
I’m sorry you feel that way. I see you as driven and disciplined. You’re someone who only holds views based on careful analysis and reasoned reflection. You hold strong ideals, and you fight for them.
Although you may never live up to your parents ideals, they’re not your ideals. It’s easy for your parents to think their ideals are right, because they share the same ideals many other people do. If they were less intelligent, less accomplished, it might be easier to take this a bit less seriously. It seemed to work for them, but that doesn’t mean it would work for you.
But their path to success doesn’t make your path a failure. I cannot say anything to address their shame. But you have no cause to be ashamed. I’m not what my parents wanted either, in so many ways. But that’s the error of their perception, not of my existence. I could say the same about you. You parents may be incredible in many ways, but they’re still human beings.
I mean no disrespect to your parents. They really do sound like remarkable people. But you have much to be proud of.
And my mom has started calling our pets her “grandcat,” “grandlizard,” and “grandsnakes.” Haha
Thanks, Choolie. I know you’re right in that it is a matter of perception. In fact, my mom has said she’s proud of me. She also has said I can be twice the woman she is when I said I would be happy to be half the woman she is.
I just can’t help thinking of all the things they wanted when I was born and how none of them have come to fruition. It must be gut-wrenching for them.
Heh on the last comment. My mom calls my cats my kids, even though I say they aren’t. She knows how much they mean to me, and she is the only person other than me who doesn’t bother them in the least. That counts for something.
Nothing can bring us as far down as self expectation, and family expectations.
You’re in a class of amazing people, don’t forget it.
Thanks, whab. Don’t I know it. Even in the absence of family pressure and expectation, there is always the self-pressure.