Author Archives: Vicky

Not an Order Taker

Life is a funny journey. I think about all the people I have met, those with whom I have connected, formed bonds, stayed in touch… Some of them, I hold connections that, despite the distance and silence, the spark reignites quickly and easily. Others, the initial overlap and commonality felt so damn certain, so unquestionable, and yet life choices and paths happened later that seemed to deteriorate the bond almost overnight.

From the time I was in my early 20s, I knew with great certainty that I wouldn’t be having children. While I had helped my grandmother babysit a family friend’s infant during my middle school years and I fairly enjoyed the cuddly blob stage, by the time I had reached college, I felt pretty strongly about being kid free.

I’m sure the struggles of growing up with my immigrant parents– with their strict demands and constant comparisons and cultural clashes– created a home life that, while safe and secure, felt deeply rife with emotional chaos and daily drama. In my young adult life, the responsibilities to serve as a secondary parent to my brother– being at the same university and all– made me especially hate the constant nagging, harping, and mercenary feel of serving as my parents’ proxy.

The thing is, I am a responsible and trustworthy person. After all, 13/15 tests say I am ESTJ = Trustee. So I get why my parents rely on me for important matters. But the thing is, I’m also a very independent and self-directed person, so while I am dependable, I don’t like to take direction from others, especially if their approach or methodology differs from my own. In other words, I’m not a fucking secretary. I am ok with you telling me, “Here is Point A. Here is Point B.” That’s all. And herein lies the problem. I get called on to do things in manners/ways that I wouldn’t normally choose. If what you want is an order taker, I’m not the person!

So as we start encountering aging, illness, and death around us, I struggle with being selected as the dutiful one. Like the scenario with my parents and my brother. Surely, I will be tasked with being in a very uncomfortable role of honoring my parents’ wishes. Will that clash with my own prudence? Maybe our thoughts/attitudes with be in sync? Um, well that has nearly never happened in my adult life. I doubt things will be that simple.

I suppose my point is, some days, I feel tremendous burden with being a responsible and trustworthy person. Is it comparable to what I consider the burden to being a parent? That’s partly why I chose not to be one.

Or maybe I’m looking at things all wrong. But take my brother, for example. He does whatever the hell he wants. He is responsible for no one but himself. His choices are made based on himself alone. Sure, maybe he lives a lonely existence without a spouse or partner. But shit, he doesn’t have to research, plan, compromise, discuss, weigh, negotiate, persuade… he doesn’t have to do any of that. He’s just. Free. Am I oversimplifying? And I don’t mean to say that Bubbey is a burden. Bubbey is probably one of my easier relationships at this point in my life. But still, he is a person I still consider when making important decisions…

Maybe responsibility is like that of having a dog. There is responsibility but the relationship is worth it. The unconditional love is worth the obligations and the pain. Does that translate to people? Like when the shit really hits the fan, who’s part of the triage team? I mean, the bottom line is that sickness, aging, and death are scary aspects of life. If you can’t rely on your loved ones to help you during those times, what’s the point?

So how did this blog post come to my mind? I was thinking about my friends with kids. What do you do if you don’t like kids? I mean, I like my friends, but I didn’t sign up for their kids. Every now and then, sure, let’s see them. I don’t despise the kids. But it’s the same dilemma I encountered years ago with a friend married to a guy who irked my nerves. I signed up for the friend, not the two-for-one. Sometimes, I try to reverse the scenario. What if a good friend wanted to hang out and she asked that John stay home. Yeah, it would probably bug me. But at the same time, I feel like one outing without him is not gonna kill me. I like that we have a bit of independence too. I dunno. I suppose we all have limited time and in the end, it’s about how we choose to spend our time. Ultimately, it’s about priorities. For some relationships, they simply don’t weather extended distance and silence. When I feel frustrated by the distraction a child creates when I’m trying to connect with my friend, I’m told to get used to it. Or to prepare to not see the friend for the next 7-10 years, bc hello, welcome to parenting. Well I suppose we all make our choices.

Catching a Break

In March, after many months of business drought, I finally caught a break. The list agent with whom I had my very first deal over 2.5 years ago, started getting a lot of business. Mind you, he’s run his own brokerage for years with only enough business for himself. But as he started picking up more listings this year, he needed to call on someone to help him host more open houses and communicate with the many Chinese-speaking visitors.

So I started covering a lot of his listings… not in the best areas and not in my usual price points, but I did it anyway. And every lead I captured, that person went into my database and I methodically kept them on my drip marketing campaign.

In February, the list agent got a new listing for a very distressed home. He invited me to attend the listing presentation and meet the sellers. The meeting at a local diner lasted FOREVER. Barely any conversation about business– just chitty chat. I was dying after more than two hours. But as he built his rapport with them, I was there kind of at the periphery but still there. And a few days later, as he advised them of their options, I was given the challenge to find a buyer for the off-market property.

I pinged my database via email and text and phone. After a few rounds, finally, someone responded. And after a few visits to the home, the general contractor made the decision to buy! Of course, there were already multiple interested parties, but in the end, the fact that I had met the sellers in that initial meeting helped me score an in-person meeting to present my client’s offer. And soon after, my client was in contract! And not only was this client super knowledgeable, having been a GC and local investor for 20+ years, he was so straightforward and pleasant to work with.

As it turned out, this deal got complicated towards the end as the close of escrow date approached. The “occupant” was very resistant about vacating the property and in California, there are all sorts of potential landlord-tenant legal issues… Thankfully, in the end, the deal closed and I learned so much. The hardest part was seeing the downside of real estate: it was not easy getting someone who had no job, car, and no other place to go, out of the property. It didn’t feel good even if it was what the sellers wanted and what needed to be done to protect my client. At the end of everything, I got my client an amazing deal, and the sellers were thrilled to get the money fast to help their family. But someone also lost the place he was living… I hope that the tenant will seek assistance from social services and job placement agencies to get him back on his feet.

Interestingly, this off-market deal led to my very first listing. You see, the day that I presented my offer (for the first time ever in person) to the seller and the listing agent, it just so happened that a mother and daughter were sitting at the table next to us. We were at that diner again. They overheard our conversation and proceeded to interrupt my offer presentation to tell us 1) they also had a home to sell 2) they wanted to meet with us, bc they liked what they had heard.

Yup, bam, just like that. I got one offer accepted and a listing appointment booked on the same day. It was super sweet and certainly made for a great story!

Nature of the Biz

I’m rounding out the first quarter of my third year in the real estate biz, and the ride has certainly been an eventful one. More than any other career I have undertaken (and I’ve done multiple), this one has been a serious rollercoaster.

You see, in the other roles, sure I often had that initial crisis of confidence. Honestly, I think it’s a woman thing. We tend to expect a higher level of knowledge, competency, and preparedness before we’ll feel confident about our expertise. So whenever I started something new, there was that initiation phase of building familiarity, skills, relationships and understanding the people and processes. After about a year in, I started getting the hang of it and it was smoother sailing from there. With real estate, it’s really a constantly-evolving process and the additional responsibility of building my own business entails added challenges.

As I tell many people, from a very young age, my mother always said I was bossy. After I became an adult, graduated from school, and entered the work force, I think she and my father were always rather incredulous that I could work for anyone. I mean, what can I say, growing up, they saw a lot of independence, resistance, and defiance. You know, immigrant parents, yada, yada. I didn’t like being told what to do, especially from my parents. In that sense, the autonomy of my current business is a great fit, bc I like weighing options and selecting the path forward. I like making the decisions.

That said, I’m not gonna lie: The lead generation part of building a business has been a struggle. I’ve grown a ton and definitely conditioned myself to enduring many more uncomfortable situations… but the task of persuading or convincing people to work with me has been difficult. First, I don’t think I come across immediately as a particularly extroverted or immediately likable individual. I’m kinda one of those people with RBF. I’ve had good friends from college admit this to me about our first encounter…

I’m working on the first impression piece, bc I know how important it is to the business. My biggest approach for summoning the energy needed for this continued self-development is to turn things into a game or challenge. That Stanford class on sports performance and mental fortitude still stays with me today so many years later. I want to be mentally strong, and I believe in continual learning and improvement. Ultimately, I want to become that person who has a presence, who exudes confidence, and who is compelling.

Of course, the downside of all this is that there is fatigue. I derive a lot of energy from pursuing this path toward mastery, but it’s also a never ending 24/7 kind of thing. You never know where and when the deal might come. This has caused some tension in my relationships. Interestingly, Bubbey and I find ourselves with roles reversed from several years ago when he was in the startup biz and I was working in government. Startup work is a 24/7 kind of business and at the time, I was frustrated by his complete obsession and utter lack of free time. His schedule was constantly changing and it was hard to make plans. Well, here we are again. There’s a line in the real estate business that says, “Anytime you need a deal, just go on vacation.” We had this happen several times already– when we were in Italy for our anniversary, when we were in Leavenworth for a group vacation, when we were home for Christmas… It’s hard for people outside the business to understand and I’m often frustrated having to explain it to people. It’s not like I get a stable, constant paycheck. In real estate, it’s feast or famine. I only get paid when I get a deal, and since I’m just getting my business started, it’s not like I have a consistent pipeline of business. The work comes in fits and starts and when the deal comes my way, I HAVE to take it. And I don’t want to apologize for having to take it, just like people don’t apologize for their life choices– be it going to school overseas (and being far away from family) or having kids (and seeing less of their friends) or working at their demanding jobs.

Ultimately, when Bubbey and I faced this scenario years back, he tried to spend more time with me. But he was so consumed with work that there just wasn’t a way to really balance it. I didn’t understand it at the time, bc I wasn’t working in such a demanding environment. I myself had also previously worked at a start up, and it was also crazy intense but I was in a lower role. I didn’t have the pressure or responsibility of running a team and of meeting the engineering deadlines for investors and customers.

In the end, J was never really able to attain work-life balance until he left the job.

I don’t know what lies ahead for my real estate business. My hope is that after the first several years of building the business, I will get enough consistent business to a point where I can hire help and delegate the duties… But we’ll have to see. I am trying to get there as fast as I can bc for some reason, I always feel a time pressure. Like it has to happen sooner than later. I dunno. For now, I’m continuing to plug away and I’m enjoying the journey.

Joe Cool

After my lunch with A, I immediately reached out to her #1 in the company colleague (whom I had met before) to set up a coffee meeting. When I met with J a week later, we had a great conversation. I mean, this dude is just the epitome of calm and cool. Sure, he wore a very nice suit, but he was just chill. And we talked for hours.

The heavy hitting agents? They talk. A lot. They run raffles. They run contests. They invite potential buyers to lunch with lenders to get them preapproved. Somehow they get buyers to agree to this. The lesson? It’s about confidence, certainty, and swagger. It’s as if they make the ask without asking. It’s more like, “Let’s do lunch” rather than “Do you want to meet for lunch?” There’s a fluidity to the ask.

And ultimately, all of this communications mojo is honed through networking… Story after story, he told me about how he went to a meetup or a happy hour or a party or an event, talked to some people, befriended them, they introduced him to yet more people at the event, and bam, he got business from these guys the next week or two. I mean, at the highest level, this is how business happens, right? It’s WHO you know.

I noticed too that with both of these loan officers, they’ve never really been about getting every client. They understand from the get go that they will not earn the business of every person, and they are ok with that… and I think how it translates is it exudes confidence to the clients. In other words, it’s totally free of desperation. So that’s my first realization. Maybe in some way, I have been coming across desperate? Two. Building my network and social skills will only help me in this business. More networking (which was already one of my new year goals). Three. The success of others leaves clues. When you exude cool, you attract people. There isn’t really a slickness but rather a chill authenticity… Anyway, I saw it in J and I’m convinced it’s part of his magic.

All of this reminds me of experiences from my childhood. When I was in school, I was often bullied, bc I was Asian (only 10 in a class of 1200) and bc I was scrawny. I had my friends but for the most part, I was considered a nerd. But in Chinese school, which I attended every Sunday, I was the cool kid, er rather, the mean girl. I carried myself differently in Chinese school. I was a badass in Chinese school. And the way classmates interacted with me was different. I’m convinced that confidence is 80 percent of the game, so I’m continuing to build it through skills mastery and stronger mindset.

What’s Wrong with You?

I had lunch recently with a loan officer friend of mine. For Chinese New Year back in early February, she had gifted me a lovely cheese board set, so I invited her to lunch as a belated thank you and catch up. She’s a super pro having been in the loan biz for over 15 years. She’s just one of those people who always appears to have her shit together: you know, goes to the gym, dresses super classy and professional, sends her two kids to private school, kicks butt in her business… I lamented to her that my business was so slow. My last deal was the end of summer.

She was so kind and sweet in her response. She told me that I was THE hardest working agent she knew and that I had the most consistent follow-up she’d ever seen. Like every time we co-hosted open houses together, I’d send a thank you card afterwards. I’d send her the leads and cc her on my emails to the visitors. Whenever I sent her clients, I’d check in with her on their status. She said, she worked with so many top producing agents, and they never did ANY of those things.

I felt really special hearing her acknowledge these habits. But still, I didn’t know why I was stagnating, and I was feeling so frustrated. At the end of our lunch, she told me not to lose hope– to keep doing what I was doing.

But, she also suggested that I speak with her colleague, who was killing it this year. He was #1 in the company across the entire USA for closing loans. She said he worked with a bunch of big time agents… maybe he would have additional insights, bc as far as she could tell, she could not figure out what was wrong with me! Turns out, from the time I met her about 1.5 years ago, she’d been puzzled by my low production. She said, she kept trying to figure out, What is wrong with you? And it didn’t make sense to her… Who knew I was like her latest conundrum?!?

It was a good meeting. I appreciated someone noticing my efforts, and afterwards, I did feel re-energized to forge ahead.

My Neighbors

In my business, a lot of colleagues and coaches advise that I get on all the social media neighborhood platforms so that I can become more active, i.e. entrenched in my community.

Unfortunately, I find that participation on the sites/list only serves to piss me off beyond belief. Remember that time I wrote a post about a neighbor complaining on the listserv that someone had trashed their front lawn and dug up all the plants and sod overnight? The person went on an entire tirade, complaining about the cowardice of someone living amongst us having an issue with him, his wife or his dogs and not talking to him about it first. He also threatened to move out of the neighborhood after living here for 20+ years. It was a ridiculous post. Well, here’s another. I mean, these are the people living amongst us. And the writer btw had no qualms tying her name to this post. Um, hello! Newsflash: Street parking is PUBLIC. You don’t own the parking space that is next to your driveway. If you want to park close to our front door, use your own fucking driveway. SMH. I mean, I am a judgey MF. I am ESTJ after all. But even I am appalled by the insane level of presumption.

An Open Letter To The Owner of the Silver BMW i135 Squatting on XYZ Avenue,

Congratulations!  You have located the perfect long term parking spot for your car!  This spot is free from tree coverage (those pesky trees drop sap and leaves that can potentially damage a paint job! Yikes this should to be avoided at all possible costs) .  I can only assume that this location must be convenient to wherever you are going because after your last 3-day extended parking gig ended just a couple days ago – you’ve moved right back into the spot!  Ok, now this is a public street and I recognize that individuals can park for 72 hours without moving their car. But you are squatting to avoid parking costs elsewhere while you travel out of town.  

Am I psychic?  Nope.  It’s easy to recognize someone who is using a spot for long term purposes because why else would you use a dashboard sun protector on to protect your dashboard from the damaging impact of the rays of the sun during the rainiest days of the year? Because you are not physically in town.  But here you are again – dashboard sun protector and all! (actually I didn’t even notice that you have a BMW branded dashboard sun protector until I posted the pictures of your car!   That’s a super special touch).

So here’s the thing, you are parking right in front of my house.  I get it, it’s a nice spot… but I have three children with disabilities and their therapists come with to the house nearly every day after school and have to haul their supplies from down the street when you have claimed this prime spot as your designated long-term travel parking spot. Here’s an idea…. park between houses so as not to inconvenience the homeowner who may have need to park or have someone park in front of their home. Come on Pal, I know there are trees, and trees drop leaves and sap but isn’t doing the right thing better than being an inconsiderate (insert your favorite adjective here)?  Or maybe you are visiting someone in our neighborhood?  We LOVE visitors here in Monta Loma!  I wish we had more!  Frankly, I believe I can speak for all of my neighbors when I say that I am quite sure that anyone hosting a three night guest would be more than comfortable having you park in front of their home.  Or even in their driveway!  

But that’s not what is really happening here is it?  You are dumping your car for short periods of time so that you don’t have to pay for parking elsewhere.  Your continual use of a sun protector in the pouring down rain is the dead give away!  I’m guessing you are either from Arizona or have used every single penny you’ve made to save up and lease your bottom of the line BMW and are protecting your investment.  And the best part?  You are too vain to put a license plate on the front of your car.  California Vehicle Code 5200 includes two sections, which state: (a) When two license plates are issued by the department for use upon a vehicle, they shall be attached to the vehicle for which they were issued, one in the front and the other in the rear. Why you may ask when it sullies the appearance of the grill of my not-exactly- a-Tesla vehicle?  Well friend, the reason is because having a front license plate allows law enforcement officials to easily identify a car in a hit and run situation.  It also identifies cars who illegally go through bridge crossings without paying a toll. (not that you would ever evade paying a charge for a service) Oh and in the Bay Area it can come with a $110 FIx-It ticket and up to $1000 in increase of insurance costs.  But whatevs…. someone who is too cheap to pay for parking is unlikely to care about such silly bureaucratic matters.

In the meantime, I’ll make sure than my partner and I move OUR new car out of the driveway so that so that my children’s therapists and helpers can park in the driveway with ease.  I know what you are thinking!  But there are trees everywhere – why would you risk getting tree sap on YOUR new car’s paint job?  I was thinking the exact same thing, but doing the right thing and potentially paying for a car wash trumps being a (again insert your favorite adjective here)  any day of the week.  Or in this case, any three days of the week.

I realize that you are likely away for an extended period of time like earlier this week and won’t be available to move your car for another three days, but next time park somewhere else so that my children’s therapists can get in and out of the house with their supplies easily.

PS – I would be remiss not to mention that my children are the WORST drivers of bicycles and scooters ever known to live in the neighborhood.  We aren’t letting them get a drivers license until they’re 40!  Those zany boys tear out of the backyard on their bikes and scooters like wild Irish banshees set on fire and are not accustomed to having a car blocking their getaway route.  Personally I wouldn’t want to park here… but not to worry, the kids are all on high alert that the  squatter is back in front of the house and have been advised to take extraordinary care when leaving the home!

Year of the Pig

Well it’s been ages since I wrote a post– I’m starting anew now following the lunar calendar just as the Year of the Pig is getting underway.

A lot has happened. Where to begin. Let’s see. Bentley has really turned a corner. We adopted him back in January 2018, so at the start of 2019, he was coming due on several of his vaccinations. Given his track record of going ballistic in a veterinary setting, I decided to try the vaccination clinic option instead. Several of the area pet stores offer vaccination days where vets come into the store and administer meds at discounted rates. I decided to go during a Sunday NFL playoff game (smaller crowds) and I also gave Bentley several Treatible brand hemp treats. The last time I was in Pet Food Express, the lady behind the counter recommended these pricey snacks. I was very skeptical, but she insisted that her dog was previously terrified and aggressive with the groomers, and after consuming these snacks, her pooch was a total angel. Yes, that’s some kind of drugs at work, right? Well, I was desperate, so I forked over the $20. What do you fucking know? I gave him three biscuits, headed over and left him in the car so I could scout out the store first. The line was not bad, but there were definitely several dogs in the store. I decided to take the chance. Sometimes, Bentley can get worked up on seeing other doggies, but other times, he can’t even be bothered. We entered the shop, and he walked around the store totally chill. Like, other dogs were barking and lunging towards him, getting all worked up, but Bentley just trotted calmly down the aisles. I’m telling you: game. changer.

When I checked in with the tech, I gave her the back story. She was totally unfazed. I mean, I know they are pros, but seriously, she was not the least bit worried. When it came our turn, we went behind the warehouse double doors and I suggested we have a female vet tend to him. Bentley did so well. As they got closer, I held him in a brace. He started to get nervous and began to growl but no muzzle and no thrashing and no barking like in the past. They gave two shots, and we were done. It was amazing, and I was so relieved. I hadn’t realized how much I had been procrastinating and dreading getting his vaccinations. But shit man, now I swear by those damn Treatibles.

Another month later, he was running out of his heartworm meds… I thought my vet would just renew the script. Nope, the vet office insisted that he come in for an exam. Ugh. Not again. Well, it had to be done, so I requested a female vet (Sadly, no more handsome Dr. C– he was Remy and Marty’s doctor) and did the Treatibles routine again. They also gave us the biggest exam room possible in case if his aggression was triggered claustrophobia. I know, how special needs are we?

They didn’t try for the butt thermometer, and all else went well. He let me fidget with his ear so they could look inside; I pulled back his lips to expose his pearly whites, and with me holding him in the front and John touching him in his hindquarters, the doctor was able to hop in there and test his joints and movement. A clean bill of health! Hurray. And he has actually trimmed down from 72 to 64 lbs. since we got him. Bc shepherds are super prone to hip dysplasia, I keep him really lean. But the vet said to just continue what we were doing, bc he looked really good and happy to her. Yay! She did also ask how much we were exercising him… We said just 2-3 20-min walks a day, and she said GSDs are highly active and highly intelligent: they need stimulation. So I guess that means we will walk him more. We kinda like him being a couch potato though.

Work-wise, business is busy. I was in Los Angeles last month for a realtor training. It was eye-opening and super helpful. More than anything, I have come to realize that I was giving weak signals. In other words, I wasn’t as feeling confident and that came across when I talked to people. So I need to focus more on the unspoken vibes and keep that mental toughness strong. Honestly, I wasted way too much time and energy on self-doubt. Seriously. I gotta think of it this way: Would I hire myself for something important? Well yes. Yes I would. Enough said.

Aside from the mental resilience, I am also doing many of the activities to continue building my skills and mastery. Every week, I’m previewing a ton of homes. I’m still making calls, writing notes, checking in. I’m still hosting open houses. I’m feeling stronger, learning tons, and noticing my growing confidence.

I also joined a membership women’s networking group. Yes, lots of lunches and meetups (with all the accompanying awkwardity…), but it’s good for me. I’ve actually met a bunch of new people I wouldn’t normally encounter. I’m already partnering with one to co-host an upcoming real estate and investing basics workshop in April. Yes, my brain is full of new initiatives and ideas for my biz. It’s overwhelming but also exciting. I’m feeling a new wave of motivation to get shit done.

What else. Family is well, the same. My parents are overwhelmed by busyness and not making important decisions for their future. My brother continues to proselytize his quack supplement shit. My aunt in Taiwan got diagnosed with pancreatic cancer last month. Yeah, when it rains, it pours.

I am feeling frustrated by my parents’ inaction, indecision, and paralysis. I keep researching ideas and options that don’t get reviewed much less implemented. Yeah, I’m def a grab the bull by the horns kinda gal. Stagnation drives me nuts. But there is only so much I can do.

So I turn my attention to myself bc I’m the only thing I can control. On that front, I’ve put on weight. The pants are too fucking tight. I’m like busting off the damn buttons and hooks. The insomnia too is taking its toll… I’m feeling growing rage again inside when it comes to family matters. I’m hoping that picking back up on this blog will help me sort through the mental clutter and settle my mind a bit. We’ll see. I also ordered a set of resistence bands to start re-engaging my muscles. And I’m hoping to restart weekly rollerblading nights with my friend T. Time to step things up again…

Limited Time

I like to read advice columns. I used to read them religiously… well, mostly just Cary Tennis. Now, I only read them when I randomly come across them. In light of my recent topics about family and my aging parents, this piece resonated with me today.

Via the Washington Post‘s Carolyn Hax: learning the value of limited time.

Bah Humbug

The holidays are always a difficult time for me. For one, my family has never been very festive. It’s hard to explain with specificity, so I recently started telling people my parents are JW. They don’t celebrate anything. I mean, the truth is, they are just a clan of pessimists. Rather than celebrate all the good things that are going for us, my people like to obsess over every damn thing that’s wrong in our lives. It’s an awful habit, which I’m glad I’ve slowly broken since flying the coop and establishing life on my own.

But man, during the holiday season when I’m spending time with my family, all the old habits just come back. I was stunned the other day to learn that there is actually a term for this phenomenon of acting like a child again despite being a middle-aged woman: it’s called “regression” and it’s a coping mechanism. Say what???

For many of us, reuniting with loved ones during the holidays can feel like psychological time travel. There’s a reason why these visits trigger old memories and regressive behaviors.

Psychological defenses are like emotional armor, protecting us from feeling more profound pain and anxiety, which explains why overwhelming emotions like anger, fear, or sadness can cause us to fall back on less mature expressions of emotion like passive aggression and, yes, eye-rolling. No matter how far away from home we travel, most of us can’t escape our family history — and the memories that come with it. New conversations remind us of old ones, even if we’re no longer living under our parents’ roofs.

Sure, I like to think that at the ripe old age of 42, I’ve developed enough awareness and self-control to override the dysfunction, stress, and anxiety that crops up, but no. Regression happens. I feel validated by the simple labeling of these feelings.

Up until my late 30s, I had a very tumultuous relationship with my parents. The shortest explanation is that they are Chinese immigrant parents. I know, people think I just use that as an excuse for EVERYthing, but I’m telling you: among nearly ALL Chinese-Americans I have encountered who are around my age, this condition is real. The nagging. The expectations. The perfectionism. The insistence on doing things their way. The black/white right or wrong mentality. Tiger parenting, y’all. It’s not just some Oprah Book Club recommendation. It’s my life.

Miraculously, in recent years, our family engagements have calmed the fuck down. The secret? We learned to avoid certain topics. I suppose this practice is nothing profound: after all, people always say to avoid talking politics, religion, etc… right? Well, it took us decades to figure this out and after we adopted this unspoken rule, our gatherings thankfully became less volcanic.

Still, I’ve been estranged from my brother for about 15 years. I stopped understanding him a long time ago, and his troubled relationship with my parents only soured my relationship with them. It’s complicated, but basically, while they were parenting in a manner that I disagreed with, they were simultaneously asking me to serve as a surrogate parent to my brother. This whole convoluted arrangement ultimately let me to choose a child-free path… And eventually, he became a topic as toxic and inflammatory as politics. We stopped talking about him to preserve our own relationship.

The other day, my brother called. Once again, his conversation with my father turned sour. He was urging my father to divest himself of Johnson & Johnson, esp following the recent reports about known toxic components in their baby powder. My father is not one to be bullied. He disagreed on divesting and then the argument escalated from there. I heard the drama and stomped upstairs. Something similar had happened the last time I was home where the call deteriorated into accusations and chaos. Launching into protective mode, I grabbed the phone from my father and the venom just started spewing. For people (like Bubbey) who come from very non-confrontational families, witnessing this kind of interaction is horrifying. For me, I grew up on this shit. When I hit my 30s, I determined that this level of engagement was not good for my psyche or my heart, so I stopped communicating with my brother altogether. BUT the muscle memory remains, and I proceeded to go full blast like a fucking feral animal. He hung up on me. Not ready to call off the fight, I buzzed him back, ready to rip him a new one.

The weird thing is, somewhere in the chaos, he stopped to listen. I was heated and full of rage and yet somehow amidst the cussing, my words came across. Two things about me: when I feel hurt, I respond with anger. And that anger rises to a very extreme level of rage fast. Seriously. My temper goes 0-100 mph in seconds. It has always been this way.

I know I hit rage status on the call, bc my heart was pounding and I was physically shaking. And once I engage in some argument over who’s right or wrong, I do not back down. There is no one who gets angrier than I do. It shouldn’t be a point of pride, but I’m kinda bragging about it right now. What can I say, it’s probably my least redeeming quality: I fly off the handle faster than ANYone. But the main point is this: the conversation shifted and we actually talked. I shared that I have been thinking about him recently. Last month, I thought back to how we were as kids. What happened? Where did things go wrong? Why can’t we understand one another?

And I acknowledged that my parents are a pain in the ass. Partly, it’s the Chinese tiger parent thing. I’ve realized this in talking with Chinese-American peers: we share a lot of the same frustrations. So even though our parents can be annoying as fuck, some of it is cultural and not necessarily specific to them. For what that’s worth.

I also shared the insights I have learned from John, aka the world class EQ extraordinaire. For example, what’s your purpose in arguing about Johnson & Johnson with dad? Let’s say dad divests in the stock. Then what? Then are you happy and is your relationship better? And frankly, if the money is so dirty, why do you ask for it and use it? He admitted that he didn’t know why he got so worked up about J&J.

Here’s what I learned from my days at the political advocacy organization. I was in 20s at the time, living and working outside of DC. Every time I visited my parents, I brought up politics, specifically abortion laws, funding for women’s health, birth control access, etc. My dad was a practicing OB/GYN and I know he shared my views about women having control over their bodies. Yet, he always voted Republican– and Republicans are traditionally anti-abortion. I couldn’t stand the hypocrisy and every single visit, we’d argue about it. It was as if I picked fights with him to convince him. But he wouldn’t be convinced and so we just went around in circles. Ultimately, I realized that look, in every industry, company, family, whatever, there are bad seeds. Bad shit is happening on all sides in one arena or the other. We are all hypocrites, bc hello, welcome to life and the world.

Also, we are all adults. We should be able to to disagree on many things. That doesn’t make one side good and one side bad. My parents are not bad people. I mean, I’m not gonna lie: Trump supporters do have me feeling like the good/bad designation applies in that case, but in general, the world isn’t black and white like that. On top of that, J and my friends have made me realize that life is short. Your parents are not political opponents. They are family. And time with them is running out. Do you want to just keep fighting over old issues, or do you want to spend what limited time remains creating new, happy memories?

I mean, holy crap. Maturity is some next level shit. I have often considered myself precocious and yet, I can point to so many pivotal moments where, despite my confidence and self-righteousness at the time, I really was quite wrong and short-sighted:

Moment 1. Marital counseling: Many years ago, J and I were recounting to the counselor a recent fight we’d had. Our accounts of what happened and who said what differed greatly. We accused each other of lying and of not having the facts straight. After much back and forth, the therapist interrupted and said: People can share the same experience and have different perceptions of what happened. Both sides are correct bc they are sharing their own read/interpretation of what went down. Regardless, marriage isn’t about who’s right and who’s wrong. You may each have different perceptions of what actually happened. It’s doesn’t matter who’s story is more accurate. You’re on the same team. How do you want to move forward? Well, shit. Yeah, we were getting tangled in the weeds.

Moment 2. Two years ago, I came home to Maryland and started cleaning out my parents’ house bc seeing all their stuff cluttering the house stressed me out. Their lack of preparation re: downsizing gave me anxiety, so I started throwing shit out, posting stuff on freecycle, having strangers come to get things out of the garage. I did this all without even really asking them what they wanted to do with their stuff. I just went into Type A mode and aimed to get shit done. Well, after a few days, things came to a head, and we had a huge blowout. That was when J sat me down and said: how do you want to spend your remaining time with them? Do you want to keep arguing over what things to clear out, or do you want to create good memories? When they move away, you will likely have complete autonomy to clear shit out the way you want. But while they are living here, respect their space and focus on other things. Well, shit. Touche.

In talking with my brother, I acknowledged: our parents did some fucked up things. They didn’t always make the best choices. But we all make mistakes, bc at the end of the day, no one really knows what the hell s/he’s doing. We’re all just trying our best. Whatever mistakes were made, they were not done with malice. There was good intentions behind it. Their execution was just misguided. Let’s try to create good memories from here on out…

Afterwards, my brother admitted that he didn’t know why he was picking fights with my dad. He didn’t know why it was so important to him that dad divest from Johnson & Johnson. After we finished talking, he spoke to my mom and dad. And how did my father react to the apology? Ok, you just learn to manage yourself. Go spend the time to think about it on your own.

See? That’s what’s so annoying about my dad. His response is essentially: Ok, you were wrong. Yes, I accept your apology. Now go work on yourself and fix yourself.

There’s no acknowledgement that his parental expectations and demands are ridiculous. That he has made mistakes as a parent. After he got off the phone with my brother, dad says to me: he needs to have a goal.

Huh? What are you talking about: my brother got a full ride to Duke. He kept his scholarship and graduated. He earned a graduate degree in teaching from Columbia. He now works a decent, respectable job teaching at the university. The students love him and the administration wants to keep him on staff. He told me he stopped participating in the religious group. Where’s the fucking acknowledgement for all those “goals” that were achieved? Nothing. Dad says he’s still taking those deer placenta tablets and doing regular colonics. I mean, yeah, step by step, one thing at a time, ok?

According to perfectionist dad, Johnny still has no goals. So finally, I’m like, what are these “goals” he should have?

Dad’s reply: You have kids to finish the goals you don’t get done.

Yeah, dad. Those are YOUR goals. Not his goals. And so now we’re back to that bullshit. It really pisses me off. Like I have said before: It’s NEVER fucking enough.

I alluded to the mistakes he and mom made as parents. And he was all surprised like, what did we do wrong? Um hello: the expectations, the perfectionism, this idea that what we do/achieve is NEVER enough, never quite right. We don’t receive acknowledgment unless all “goals” are met at the same time. The fact that your life is ruined, bc you don’t have grandchildren. And why must grandchildren be the representation of hope for the future?

Hello, I’m not even dead yet. I still have things I’m going to do. But clearly, you’ve given up on both of your kids achieving the goals you’ve set for them. And the message is that your kids are failures, but grandchildren will offer you another chance to save the day. Am I overreacting here?

Well, hey, here’s some food for thought: We may be disappointments to you, but you’re also a disappointment to us. And by the way, throwing money at someone or something is NOT the same as truly believing in them and supporting them and loving them. Again, where is the conversation of: Let’s all try to do better. How can I help our relationship grow? It’s pretty much. Yeah, I’m right, you’re wrong. I accept your apology. Now, go take time to fix yourself.

I’m telling you: this is why I don’t have kids.

On one hand, my parents are old. Can they be expected to further develop their emotional skills to the point of really being able to offer support? Is it fair or even reasonable to expect that level of support? Second, my dad’s dad is still alive, and he’s still always bitching about not having a legacy. Look dude, give it up. You’re not royalty. Also, maybe you don’t deserve to have the family line continue on…

I told my dad today that part of the reason why Johnny and I hate(d) going back to Taiwan is bc we always get harassed for all the things we’re not doing right. There could be a bunch of things we have going on that’s good, and yet the first thing out of grandpa’s mouth is complaints about me not having kids and Johnny not being married. Leave us the hell alone!

John pointed out to me today: the good thing is, your parents have learned to avoid talking about contentious topics, but that doesn’t mean they will change their values. Their values are the same. So this legacy idea will always bother them.

True. But that’s on them. Learn the Circle of Control. You can’t control what others do or say or think.

Doing our best

Well, surprise, surprise. Every time I go back to Maryland, I fall into an abyss of overthinking and paralysis. Invariably, at some point during my visit, my brother calls to do three things: feign concern for my parents, proselytize the merits of his quack science and quack religion, and ask for more money. Mind you, homeboy lives in one of the most expensive cities in Asia rent- and utilities- free, and he STILL can’t manage his fucking budget. My brother is just so damn off kilter that I can’t help but cull through our entire history to figure out what the hell went wrong and where.

It’s so weird bc you know all those studies about child development and how people say character/personality is some combination of genetics and environment? Man, with so many friends and acquaintances now with kids, I hear so many thoughts on parenting styles and tactics and in creating the right environment for kids. Honestly, it only reaffirms my own child-free stance: the juice just ain’t worth the squeeze!

A few years ago, I remember one coworker was on like her third year waking up in the middle of the night for her crying child. When I mentioned the Ferber method (where you train the child to cry it out and self soothe), she was convinced that the technique would create trust issues and irreparable psychological damage. Really? Something as basic as letting them cry it out?

Thinking about my own parents, their methods were definitely stress inducing. I mean, dad had a temper, he was impatient, and they were both obsessed with school and achievement. When my brother couldn’t solve a homework problem and he didn’t get it after dad tried to explain a few times, dad would lose his shit and call my brother “stupid.” All while growing up, we were constantly compared to their friends’ kids. I suppose the intention was to motivate us to step up but…

And whenever people praised us, my love-withholding parents would tell us people were just sweet-talking us and pulling our chains. We weren’t really that good, they’d insist. I’m telling you, it was exhausting trying to meet their high standards while also dealing with their moving goal posts. During our entire academic careers, they just harped and harped. When my brother struggled with his grades at Duke, my dad would just keep freaking out: “You can’t lose your scholarship; otherwise, what will people think?” Um, I mean, my brother was one of ten students in the entire class of 1,300 people who was awarded the merit scholarship. If he were to lose it, he’d be like the rest of the students at the #4 college in the country. I mean, how about “What can we do to help you feel more motivated and focused? Don’t worry: just try your best. We still love you.” Goddamn. I feel so anxious just recalling those memories.

My senior year in college, I wanted to get out to the work force and join an environmental engineering firm. The thought of me not going straight into grad school was so unacceptable to my father that he cut off communication with me. Jesus Christ. My mom talked to me and tried to be more encouraging: “He just thinks you have so much potential. He doesn’t want you to waste it.” Yup bc if I just join the work force, I’m all washed up. Wtf.

In the end, I conceded and applied to grad school to have the possible option. Of course, that only meant I had to start the program right away after my acceptance and graduation. After two years working in the solid waste lab and out in the field, I was exhausted and then immediately, I had to get a job and keep going. And then all this crap about why wasn’t I going to get a PhD? A master’s degree is nothing. Everyone has a master’s degree these days. Nevermind that I just graduated from the top landfill research program and managed to get my tuition paid for. Nevermind that I scored a decent job right out. As it turned out, after two years in the real world, solid waste engineering wasn’t what I had thought it would be. Honestly, had I been allowed to work right after undergrad, I would have discovered this and not suffered through two years of grad school. Of course all of this is water under the bridge, but goddamn, my parents just pushed and pushed and pushed. And everything was so all or nothing. Either we excelled or we were failures. There was nothing in between.

And on this last trip home for dad’s surgery, he twice mentioned the importance of AI for the future. Maybe I can learn that field– it’ll be so relevant going forward. Yeah, while I’m trying to build my real estate business and live my life with all this dysfunction and baggage, let me learn another career!! Even mom suggested that I go back to school to study AI. The fucking buzzword of the year, I tell you. I mean, whatever though. Parents make mistakes. It’s not like Bubbey grew up in the most encouraging or supportive environment either. He’s not all messed up like my brother and I are. But sheesh, when dad makes those comments, I just think to myself: You know what? Dad, why don’t you learn to use your computer. Like print shit, email me an attachment, and send me a picture from your phone. Maybe learn how to text message. And mom, why don’t you try to create a new habit. You know what I mean?

I sometimes think about my college roommate. She’s a physician, and her brother stocks shelves at Staples. For years, she and her parents tried to encourage her brother with his academics but in the end, they realized, not every kid is going to go to a top ten school and become a doctor. And they let it go and let him be. And they have a decent relationship with him. Their parent-child relationship isn’t defined by his achievements. Whoa, what a concept!

These days though I just bite my tongue. It’s fucking hard as hell for me, but I just resist losing my shit with my parents. John keeps reminding me that aging rots their brains. Still though. How are other people parenting and doing this? I mean seriously, how the hell do people know what to do and how to respond?

On Thanksgiving morning, I awoke full of anxiety. The first thought that popped into my head was memories of my brother and me riding our bikes through our old neighborhood. If I go back far enough, we shared good times together as kids. But now, here we are… we could not be at greater odds.

I feel sad and sorry for the times when I was such a mean little sister. I would snoop around in his shit and then threaten to destroy his comic books or artwork later when we were fighting about something. Where did I learn to hold things hostage like that?

I know it wasn’t easy being the firstborn of the firstborn. My brother was only 6 or 7, and he was very artistic early on. Dad would come home and find him drawing intricate pictures and then flip the hell out. Bc why was he spending all his time and energy on “useless” stuff? Art has no practical value. You can’t have a career in art. Again, we were only six or seven years old. I know that as kids, we could never fathom the difficulty and stress of being an immigrant in a new country with no support, no friends, and a family back home in tremendous debt. But shit, we were just innocent kids trying to do happy things. Our souls were crushed repeatedly with criticisms and expectations to do more and do better.

So many times, I remember people complimenting my brother or me for something. Rather than allow us to bask in the glow, dad would just tell us not to believe those people and their lies. I would argue back: they’re not lying. If they have nothing nice to say, they’ll just stay quiet. There’s no reason for them to lie. He said we were being naive. Whatever. I dunno why he behaved like that. But like I said before, my parents were love withholders. Maybe they never wanted it to get to our heads. Maybe they were secretly competitive and didn’t want us to be better than them. Who the hell knows. Chinese parents, SMH.

It’s all moot now and yet I still cry thinking about it. My brother used to be a very sweet and loving child. Somewhere his spirit got broken. Or maybe he was always destined for this path. I don’t know, but I still mourn the loss. How did it all come to this…

Interestingly, I had a recent revelation. My dad’s family idolizes him. I’ve always noticed that pretty much everything dad says or does is deemed right and perfect. No one ever criticizes him. No one ever questions his judgement. Already, his personality is very decisive and self righteous. He’s always been confident and clear with his compass. But that doesn’t mean he’s infallible. Yet his people never call him out on any flaws and mistakes.

Was it always like this or just in his adulthood? It’s a very weird culture. For someone who is always so picky and so critical, he only receives encouragement and support from his parents and siblings. Isn’t that interesting? Dad was telling me one time how he bumped into an underclassman from medical school, and the guy just kept going on and on singing my father praises, telling him how much he looked up to him when they were in school together. Hmm that’s interesting. Anytime someone else receives that level of praise, you tell them people are just being polite showering them with exaggerated compliments. But when you’re the recipient, suddenly the people are so genuine and sincere.

I have different expectations now for all of us. I’m currently the age my parents were when they were trying to navigate all of this career and parenting shit. My parents now are elderly. Their capacities have slowed and weakened. And my 43-y/o brother continues to act like a goddamn entitled asshole.

He doesn’t love them and he has his reasons. That’s fine. So then why not just leave my parents the hell alone. Why bother calling to trash talk western medicine, tout the deer placenta pills, colonics, and keto diets, and then ask for money? Why? Just go live your life with free housing!

I started writing my brother a letter while I was in Maryland, but it just meandered. I haven’t really known my brother for many many years. And on top of that, he is brainwashed. Is there any point in trying to get him out of the cult? Is it worth a try? I will say, my drafts always start off calmly with slight feelings of nostalgia and sadness, but then somewhere they take a dramatic turn and I lose my shit all over again. My friend N pointed out the last time I saw her that I convert my pain into anger. And it’s so true. When you hurt me, I get totally pissed off. Which makes me think: Maybe I just don’t have the constitution to take this on. I mean, my brother is 43 y/o. Between dealing with my business (which is a people business) and my parents and my relatives, this is still an uphill battle. Can anything good come out of this letter or any letter?

Needless to say, I got zero rest while in Maryland. Not only was I mentally weighed down by this bullshit, my parents didn’t even have decent sheets for my bed. And they used to have high quality sheets and comforters! Where did all the nice stuff go??? I have no idea, but seriously, it’s all cheap, scratchy scraps now. Like random fabrics that don’t even fit western mattresses. Omfg. I was so annoyed. I’ve already ordered my own flannel sheets and duvet cover for next month when I’ll be back there again for the other eye surgery and for Christmas. God help me.

Anyway, I know in the grand scheme of things, my parents were good parents with good intentions. Without question, they really worked hard to provide us with so many resources and opportunities. The past is painful, but we have no choice but to look ahead.

I have a friend: his parents are staunch Trump supporters. I remember when I was working in the early 2000s at the political advocacy organization outside DC, I could not stand that my parents voted Republican and every chance I had, I would jump down their throats about it. Now that I’m older, I’ve become less insistent about my parents aligning with my politics. Still, I was curious how my friend handled his relationship with his extreme parents. “Were your parents good parents?” I asked. After a brief pause, he said, “They did the best they could with what they knew and with what they had.” At first, I thought this was some bullshit PC/diplomatic response. But later, I came to realize that this is the way to move forward. What’s the point in holding grudges and having resentment? They did the best they could, just as I did the best I could. In all candidness, we disappointed each other. So I try very hard to hang less on their past mistakes and misaligned words (like the AI thing) and just focus on my own mindset. Whatever factors may have contributed to shaping my brother into the person he is today, none of those incidents can be reversed or retracted. In life, sometimes there are no second chances. Regardless, we continue forward doing our best with what we know and what we have.