Category Archives: Family

Two Bosses

John always jokes that my father and I are very similar. I mean, like they say: the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree… And the reason we clash is bc we both like to be the boss. John always describes us as the two bosses: one boss bossing the other boss. I won’t disagree. Each meeting essentially becomes a monster to-do session, with my dad ranting off a laundry list and I’m the executor. The thing is, he likes to give me entire brain dumps of tasks… like even while I’m in the middle of working on one item, he’ll start going into details about the next thing. These are the moments when I come damn close to reliving my notorious “I’m not your fucking secretary” moment. I mean, he also hovers while I’m doing the tasks. Like a total maniacal micro manager!

So this time I went back, and his internet had shitty signal again. This has been an ongoing issue for the last several years tbh. I kept telling him to call the cable guy and get the shit upgraded and for whatever reason, he just couldn’t get it done. As a result, year after year, we put up with his devices jumping from one network to the other, causing all kinds of spotty issues with the printer, his phone, laptop, security cameras, etc. It drove me insane every damn time I had to remote tunnel into his computer.

So then this trip, I got sick on arrival and quarantined in none other than the bedroom with NO goddamn cell or internet signal. Yup, five days in the slammer with shoddy to nil service.

As soon as I got out, I hit up the Costco, bought a new $60 router, called the cable guy, and the next day, voila, we have freaking fire. Strong, reliable internet in every goddamn room. Was that so hard that I had to fly half way around the globe to get this issue fixed?!?! Apparently, yes.

Btw an example of dad the micromanager: so obviously, he has no clue about tech. Yet when the service guy came, dad asked me to explain the situation to him and then he wanted to explain it to the tech. I’m like dad: I got it. Why would I communicate thru you? This isn’t the freaking telephone game. I know the issue and I can speak in Chinese to communicate with the tech. Jesus Christ. I mean, my non native Chinese plus knowledge of tech is way better than your native language skills and zero understanding of tech.

I told you. In any given situation, whatever the answer is, my dad will select THE most complicated and circuitous route to arrive at the solution. For realz. Time and time again. FML.

So then the guy is there in the living room setting up the device that I bought. I’m already there giving the tech details like what to name the network, what password I want, changing the router log in, updating the firmware and then dad is there hovering trying to re-explain shit I already went over. I’m telling you: It was a goddamn shit show. I was like Dad, stay in your fricking lane!!! Can you see why it’s so damn challenging and exhausting spending time with my parents???

Unrecognizable

Omg the Taiwanese are so obsessed with weight. Every time I go back, everyone’s all up in each other’s bidness about who got fat and who got skinny. And no, they don’t use any euphemisms. Everything is straight up radical honesty.

In recent zooms before the trip, my dad keep asking me if I had put on some pounds. I said I didn’t think so, and he was like are you sure?? Fucking Chinese. So uncouth about their topics of conversation.

Yeah, so during this trip, my family asked me how much I weigh. It was so foreign to them that I don’t weigh myself and do not know my number. As soon as I said that, my aunt busted out the scale. Yes, like they have a scale in every room of the house. I’m telling you. East meets west and then things crash and burn. I’ve gained maybe five pounds. To me, that is nbd.

Last year when my grandma died, my cousin AH went to stay overnight at another cousin’s (WQ) house. He and his parents told me later: OMG she got so fat. Her butt and legs… they exclaimed: she used to be one of our skinniest cousins!!! I’m thinking, yeah, of course she was, like when we were in our fucking 20s. The standards for women here are so ridiculous.

AH proceeds to say WQ’s face got so pudgy that it completely altered her face shape. She was practically unrecognizable. Yup, those were the exact words. In Chinese of course. Still. So damn dramatic.

I see her year after year. And she looked the damn same. John agreed. I called them out on it, and then they doubled down, saying she even admitted her clothes stopped fitting her!! As if that immediately meant she gained so much weight so as to become unrecognizable. Ridic.

I mean, depending on how tight a person wears her clothes, you can literally gain a measly 3-5 pounds and your clothes won’t fit. Calm the hell down people. Seriously.

Longevity Trumps All

When I went back to Taiwan this year, my father demonstrated a renewed sense of interest in self care. After his two bouts of sickness/sepsis last year, he now has kidney disease and is obsessed with doing what he can to avoid dialysis.

It’s nice to see a focus now on diet and exercise also with the intention of keeping his diabetes in check, but I realized that this bizarre obsession is more about on longevity than anything even remotely related to enjoyment or quality of life. My paternal grandfather was rather similar in his sort of militaristic routine regarding his diet and exercise: he did his calisthenics, it was more about the number of reps than about being outside to enjoy the sunshine and fresh air. Maybe it’s all moot anyway… so long as the activities are done, there will be benefits one way or the other.

My father insists that due to his kidney disease, he can no longer get vaccines and boosters, so he feels especially vulnerable. For most people, I find they take precautions to minimize risk but the intention isn’t to live in a damn bubble so you never catch anything at all… Apparently, my father is in the latter category now, paranoid to the point of not really even leaving the house. Even for his exercises, he does them inside or upstairs on the rooftop terrace where he just walks in small 40ft loops. So unnecessarily cloistered, considering one of the city’s largest parks is just a stone’s throw away.

Whatever. From last year, dad has also made many dietary changes to combat the diabetes and high blood pressure. My brother of course considers himself a health expert/savant, so he is always emailing and feeding dad his unsolicited advice and propaganda. The household no longer cooks with olive oil, and my parents don’t consume flour either. I was turned off my the extremity of these changes… but my dad says his diabetes is better. He doesn’t notice any difference from cutting out flour, but he will continue with the regimen, bc he’s is ascetic that way. Needless to say, everyone in the household is now on this special diet targeting diabetes and kidney disease. I guess it was not a bad thing to change up my diet for a few days and consume more veggies, fish, soup, and lighter fare.

Overall, I will say the trip was a success. I got annoyed a few times with my dad bc he’s a control freak but other than that, there was a decent balance of forced rest aka covid quarantine, tech support, time with mom, self exploration, and visits with my cousins.

I was really proud of myself too for finding massage spots and spas and doing a lot of waking. My face was a total inflamed mess, but I did find a nice acne facialist and I am going to give her products a try.

There’s a lot about my family that feels too traditional and outdated. My aunt is still obsessing about the cousins who are unmarried. Remnant dreams of my grandfather kept being brought up even though he passed away years ago. I often wish my family would just get with the times and be more modern in their attitude and approach, but goddamn, they really are traditional and stubborn as hell. I mean, wasn’t there some recent census/stat saying half of all couples don’t have kids. It’s not like that’s a new concept. Get the fuck over it already.

This is partly why I won’t ever live in Taiwan. I can’t deal with all the conservative attitudes in my family plus the collective mentality. Oh hell no, folks. Stay in your frickin lane.

Pre-Travel Anxiety

Every year, in the weeks leading up to my annual trip to Taiwan, the dread starts to set in. It’s almost part of the entire routine and ritual now… a foreboding precursor before I meet my parents again. For some reason, the anxiety felt a little heavier this time. I suspect the weight of it had something to do with me feeling more accepting of my personal limitations and shortcomings. Is it self-acceptance, or is it more an acquiescence or resignation even? I’m not sure, but this time I felt a real fear of losing my temper with them.

In the past, my rage would unfurl at the drop of a pin, with an intensity that took no prisoners. But now that I’m older and their fragility is so much more apparent, I really want to keep my cool and composure. I know the triggers run deep, but I have to do better.

So in my typical fashion, ahead of the visit, I spent time planning logistics: what items needed to be brought back (printer cartridges, new phones, gifts), what gifts to take, what activities to schedule, tasks in advance and during, who to see, where to go, yada, yada. Due to J’s work schedule and Bentley care (always an issue), I was going solo this time, and the 11 days was going to be an eternity.

For most people, that doesn’t sound like an exorbitant amount of time, but keep in mind, I do not even vacation for longer than 5-7 days. Yes, I am that fucking uptight. I think I’ve gone on maybe only two or three trips with J that went longer than 8 days. Needless to say, I was concerned (as were many of my friends) about this duration with my family. In preparation, I scheduled two therapy sessions plus a pedicure and a massage… all to get my bucket topped up. Sure, there were stressors and the usual bullshit that arose at work, but I really tried my damnedest to be in optimal form.

Then, mistake 1: I decided to get my relatives some last-minute gifts necessitating a trip to the mall DURING HOLIDAY SEASON. High risk behavior. Fucking A. Mistake 2: J started exhibiting symptoms but we didn’t give it too much thought, bc he’d been having asthma issues for a bit. Mistake 3: I booked a Thanksgiving week flight– bursting at the damn seams.

And so my journey began… 22-freaking-hrs door-to-door. The flight itself, as I mentioned being the week of Thanksgiving, was of course crazy. Maxed out. The airline kept dangling promos asking passengers to volunteer getting bumped. Despite my propensity for dealios, I resisted. I tried to make the best of a long haul.

Immediately on touchdown, J informed me he tested positive for Covid. Great. Nothing to do about it now, so I hopped the metro, train, and car ride to my parents’ home in Kaohsiung, I didn’t feel so hot on arrival– sniffly nose, burning eyes, headache… then again, I had just traveled for 22 hrs. I took the test. Negative.

In true task master fashion, I very quickly unveiled to Dad my newest strategy for giving him autonomy and control over his matters (Google Fi phone). He gave it a few test runs and after I got his printer back online and working again (you have NO idea how damn buggy all his tech is), he was back in business printing out statements and paperwork– happy as a clam.

A few hours later, I was in bed though, and the fever started ramping up. Yup, an awful start to the dreaded trip. To be candid, I def didn’t do my body any favors with all the pre-trip anxiety and worry. The day after arrival, I knew I was sick… for the first time since 2019 if you can imagine! The test came back a solid positive. Coughing, fever, congestion.

I will say, thankfully, it’s not the sickest I’ve ever been and for that, I am thankful to have received the recent boosters in late October. I’m now in Day 4 of a 5-day quarantine, aka a “forced rest.” Clearly, I’m not good at letting my body take a break. I need to learn some new healthy habits pronto.

Back from Bend

John and I recently returned from a seven-day trip to Bend, Oregon. His sister S is possibly contemplating a different lifestyle/environment, so she rented a month-long Airbnb in Bend, where a good friend of hers also lives.

I have to say, Bend has a LOT going for it. We were there in early September, so the weather was perfect, especially along the very scenic backdrop of a lake/mountain town. The population I’m told is around 120,000 which is decent, and as the city has grown markedly through the years, there is a lot of new construction– new retail, new facilities, shops, restaurants… it feels like a community where there is some mindfulness around its growth and development. And it’s small enough geographically that you don’t really have to contend with traffic congestion and any real urban sprawl.

I actually caught up a lot on sleep that week. All of us still worked and the Airbnb in many ways served as a coworking space with zoom meetings occurring in every bedroom, BUT it was a welcome and palpable change being able to step away from work midday and immediately hop on a bike trail riding along the Deschutes River. There was no leaving the house an hour ahead to account for travel time to the appointment.

I felt like the trip gave me a much-needed reminder that I do enjoy activities and being outdoors and doing things BESIDES sitting on my ass in front of the computer. I spent one afternoon at the roller-skating rink (new and gorgeous). Another afternoon riding our bikes. A third trying out an aerial silks (acrobatics) class (never again!). And yet another afternoon getting a foot massage and going kayaking. All this sprinkled in around several walks to/from downtown for dinners. It was a great experience re-imagining a different day-to-day routine and lifestyle.

On the downside, I will say, Bend is super white. A lot of Aryan nation-looking people. Not that they’re Nazis but just dayum, it was THAT homogenous. The stats say Asians comprise less than TWO PERCENT in Bend. It’s not that I’m uncomfortable around a mostly white population– I grew up in Frederick after all. But TWO percent is way small. And I still like to have my opportunities where I’m interacting with other Asians, speaking in Chinese.

In conclusion, the trip was a great vacation spot and respite. But after getting back home, I have to admit: I still love being in the Bay Area. Shrug. I guess the heart wants what the heart wants. We’ll see what the verdict ends up being for my SIL.

The Kid Debate Rages On

Parents kill me with their demands and expectations on how their children should conduct and live their lives. I am no longer harassed about this in part due to the passing of my paternal grandfather, but it’s disappointing to see this issue featured on a recent advice column. What’s that saying, “Live and let live”?

Carolyn Hax: Would-be grandpa scoffs at couple’s choice to forgo kids – The Washington Post

Build a Fire

Excerpted from a LinkedIn post that resonates with me today:

As a young lawyer, when work was slow, I got nervous, anxious, and fixated on working harder to get busy again. Now, I take a different approach. I tell myself, “Build a fire”.

In law school, Professor, Chief Judge, and former Marine James Baker told a story: It was freezing during a winter live-fire exercise in Infantry Officer school. He and his fellow trainees were shivering and sullen.

During a lull, a Major walked up and barked, what are you doing?

Judge Baker yelled out, waiting for the enemy so we could attack.

The Major said, No, what are you doing freezing?? Build a fire!

Judge Baker built the fire. Soon the soldiers warmed up, rejuvenated, and returned to their ferocious selves more ready to charge ahead.

As a young, ambitious lawyer, work getting slow was worrying. Where would the next deal come from? Would I be slow forever? Would I hit my target hours? I focused on all the things I could to generate business. I would wrote articles, built my skills, networked, scheduled coffee meetings, and made myself busy. This was deeply hurtful to my wife. She had unconditionally supported me when I was busy, but how could I not focus on my relationship with her during work slow times? Regardless of my efforts and anxiety, the next deal always came and I exceeded my billable-hour targets each year. As the economy slows and private equity and venture capital activity decrease, a lot of younger corporate lawyers are biting their nails. Some have reached out to me asking, what should I do when I’m slow?

My response: build a fire.

Invest in the parts of you that you neglected during the busy times. Engage with people who love you. Do the hobbies that make you feel free and happy, and allow your mind to wander.

I deepen my connection to my wife and children. I go on hikes with them and breathe fresh air. I exercise more. I walk my goats to greener pastures and fix the chicken coop. I call my parents, my brothers, and friends that I long since neglected.

I stay up late laughing and sleep a bit later in the morning. Work will get busy again and when it does I will be a more energized, mentally healthy, and productive M&A lawyer.

Even though I love being an M&A lawyer, an M&A lawyer is not all I am. I have other parts of me that must be nurtured and cultivated.

When work is slow, let’s resist sprinting to the next goal post. Instead, stop and build a fire. You will be better for it.

Do Better

I started therapy again at the start of the year. I was feeling the re-emergence of old thoughts and inadequacies and figured therapy would be the proactive way to nip that shit in the bud. On the suggestion of a few friends, I turned to a local counseling center and did some initial research to find someone with DBT (dialectical behavioral therapy) experience. The good news is that our culture is starting to take mental health more seriously. As such, it seems to be an arena where there’s been a lot of progress and advancement.

I quickly read a few profiles and settled on a therapist. I mean, with therapy, you never know what you’re going to get. Sometimes, it takes a few tries to find the right match. I was lucky. My therapist has been wonderful.

The sessions have been enlightening. And I definitely see value in carving out time on a regular schedule. Not surprisingly, much of our time centers around my parents and their style of parenting. Next most discussed is my work (and clients), and lastly, friendships.

I’ve realized that my perfectionism and ideas around achievement may just be a struggle that carries with me my entire life. As I’ve recounted past memories and experiences, themes emerge over and over again. And I’ve also started to see some of the ironies. If you’ve followed along with my blogs, you know my relationship with my family is complicated, coming with all the baggage frequently associated with immigrant parents– responsibility, expectations, demands, comparisons, sacrifice…

In many of the tearful sessions, my therapist tries to convince me that I’m valued and worthy of love, even if I feel I haven’t achieved what I should have. Even if I feel behind and ranked below others who might not have even had the privileges that I had growing up. She tells me the numbers/stats surrounding my career are irrelevant to who I am and whether I deserve to be loved. But damn, the psyche is a complicated thing. In moments, I have full confidence in myself. I know I work hard, and I advocate for my clients. I know I do everything I can to protect them and help them through a complicated process. But at the end of the year, I just have my stats. And even though last year was a record year for me, it still didn’t feel good enough. Bc other people did better. Their achievements showed what is possible. And I didn’t achieve that.

And so the pursuit continues. My therapist says she finds my relentless drive to be exhausting. Somehow in my head, I feel compelled to do more and to be better. I know life is not fair. The outcome is not always commensurate with your effort and your will. And yet, at times, I will drive myself to oblivion trying to force improvement/acceleration from where I am.

Last week, I was in the middle of a challenging transaction with stubborn clients who just would NOT stop bitching and complaining about the appraisal that came in low. Nevermind that I got them into contract on a house for $50k less than the competing offer. They couldn’t get over having to pay $6k to reconfigure the financing to get the house. Meanwhile, my father was calling multiple times about his tax papers and mail and computer problems. I told my father to just FedEx me his stack of papers for the CPA. Back and forth… he didn’t want to mail it bc it was sensitive info. He didn’t want to use FedEx bc it costs more than the regular post. He didn’t want my cousin to scan it bc privacy. Finally, I lost my shit. This is the real world. People scan and mail sensitive documents all the fucking time. Get over it and figure this shit out. Jesus fucking Christ. Do better, bc your best is not good enough. Joe Biden is older than you, and he’s running the goddamn country!!

And there it was. The bullied had become the bully. I realized that the doctrine to which I had been subjected my entire life– the doctrine which has been the source of so much disappointment and pain– was so undeniably ingrained. This is my value system. This is what I believe of myself and now of my parents. I don’t care how much you tried. I don’t care about what else is happening in the background (my mother will be going to a care facility in a few months). Do better bc your best is not good enough.

And as I write those words, I am fighting back tears. I believe those thoughts. I’m good, but I should be better. I should be more. This can’t be all that I am.

So I go back to grinding, striving to hit some higher level I have in my mind, thinking maybe I can attain it through brute force. Here I am: fatigued, frustrated, and damn tired. How do I free myself from this? It seems the answer lies somewhere with acceptance. But to me, acceptance means giving up. It’s a vicious cycle, you see? When I take a day off, I chide myself: that’s why you don’t have more leads in your pipeline. I know, it’s an intense and bizarre form of self-torture and abuse. At least that’s how the therapist describes it.

Granted, some days the thoughts are lighter than others. Still. I know my sweet therapist has her work cut out for her. The damage is real.