J and I are finally headed home today, and boy are we relieved. In general, he and I rarely travel longer than 8 days in one go, so this two week thing being away from home and Marty is kinda killer. It’s so funny, bc every time I visit family in Taiwan, they always ask why our trip is so short: you fly halfway across the world and the tickets are so expensive, you really need to stay longer, for like a month at a time. But OMFG, considering the way I get along with my parents… Seriously, even five days is way plenty. Note to self: Do NOT forget this the next time I book my flights to Taiwan.

Interestingly, after the huge blowups, my parents’ MO is to act like nothing happened. Mind you, at the next fight, every little detail will be dredged back up, but for the time being at least, that’s how my parents rebound from their fights. The next day, everything appears back to normal. Even my aunt made a comment like yeah they fight all loud and heatedly, but then it just blows over afterwards. I don’t quite bounce back the same way, and you all know, I have the memory of a fucking elephant, so yeah, I don’t just forget all that transpired. Still, after 48 hrs., thinking back to all that mom and I argued about, it did all seem rather silly… like the level of heat was incommensurate to the issue.

J, who has witnessed even worse and at more frequency back in the day when I was still interacting (and living) with Johnny, says the fighting with my parents has gotten better. I mean before, they were on my case about so many things in addition to the Johnny situation, for example, me not having a prestigious job, not having enough higher education, not having kids, not dressing like an adult, blah, blah, blah. Now, they ocassionally make jabs about the child-free thing or they indirectly mention it by saying how miserable they are, but for the most part, Johnny is the only real remaining issue of contention. They want me to re-establish relations with him in hopes that I will influence him to be more adult and more mature.

J says that their parenting dilemma with my brother is def a difficult situation. I mean, parents always want their children to be well. And I’m sure they don’t want to have to keep worrying about him the rest of their lives. I get that. But you simply cannnot deny their continued role in creating and in exacerbating this problem. It’s fine to guide and support and help your child when he is younger. But he is a full blown adult now. He is forty-fucking-three years old. By continuing to pay his bills, provide him with rent-free housing, manage the maintenance of his housing (checking for damage after the typhoons, replacing filters, etc.), remind him about deadlines for his job (!!), buy his airline tickets, send him home with food for the week… it’s just too. damn. much. Sure, there are cultural influences also at play: that’s why there are terms like “Little Emperor Syndrome,” the “4-2-1 scenario” (meaning the four grandparents and two parents are all focused on serving the 1 child’s every need), and the “strawberry generation” (the overprotected kids are so fragile that the slightest bump or hardship causes extreme bruising). Still, despite the cultural norms, I feel that the case is especially extreme and pronounced in my family. My refusal to re-engage with my brother is partly for self-preservation, but I also firmly believe that as long as my parents insist on parenting in this manner, no amount of outside influence from me or from anyone will change his ridic sense of entitlement and his absolute inability to be independent, resourceful, and self-sufficient.

I’m starting to get really run down over here. I have developed two ulcers/sores in my mouth, I’m still sick (sore throat and fatigue), and my skin is looking extra shitty. I have not slept well in days. Earlier today before the family lunch, J and I went over to my youngest aunt’s house and she started peppering me with questions: why are you tired and why are you not sleeping, what do YOU have to worry about, etc. I suppose in most people’s eyes, bc we don’t have kids and bc neither one of us is currently working, how could anything possibly be bothering us? They just don’t get it.

But whatever. After spending a few days with my family, John sees the level of intensity. In fact, he’s now sick also. He probably termed it best the other day: my family is totally dysfunctional, and the most surprising realization is: despite how much my parents have done for me and for their families, they fight in a very immature and emotionally abusive manner, using tactics centered on blame, judgement, and constant comparison (of kids, pedigree, wealth, success, diligence, whatever.)

After witnessing all this, J says a lot of my quirks now make more sense. A lot of this is learned behavior, particularly the blaming, the keeping a mental tally, the dredging up of shit from forever ago, the constant criticism/nagging, the “principled” attitude where there’s a “right” and “wrong” way of doing things, the “if I want it done right, only I can do it” lack of delegation, the martyrdom, the extreme frugality (jumping through hoops to save $5)…

Watching the way my parents fight (which is at minimal daily), he remembers how I used to fight early on… arguments were always about me being right and about me proving who (else) was to blame. They were never about working through misunderstandings and moving forward. I don’t fight like that anymore (thank goodness for therapy!), but shit, when I’m super stressed and rundown (like when I’m with my parents), I instinctively resort to those old methods. And that was def apparent in my huge blowup with mom last night. I feel compelled to get the last word.

The family lunch today went fine. J and I ended up taking the metro and a cab to get to my aunt’s house. Her daughter then drove us to the restaurant. My brother came down via train and then my parents, my grandparents, and he drove to the restaurant. Due to lack of seating, the caretaker stayed home. And that was probably best: I’m sure she enjoyed the peace and quiet, esp after having heard two massive blowups in less than 24 hrs. More on the second explosion later…

At the restaurant, Johnny sat next to John and they chatted things up. I talked to him for a bit, meaning I was civil and such, but I will never truly engage with him in an authentic way again. In that sense, the relationship is just eternally broken, and the same can be said for my relationship with my mother.

Obviously, I should not have lost my temper with her yesterday. And though everything I said was truthful and accurate (see how I still like to be right?), I probably should have just bitten my tongue. I mean, even Americans don’t adopt the radical honesty philosophy that I do: in most situations, society and civility simply demand self-censorship. So as much as I stand by my sentiments, the way I express them can be very hurtful. Moving forward, the best I can do is disengage. J reminds me that whatever happens with my brother and my parents and all this jumbled mess, it doesn’t really affect our daily lives in California, so just focus on getting home.

I agree, but it’s still hard for me to be so aloof. I want good things for my parents; I want them to live healthy, happy, vibrant lives. Ultimately though, their happiness is not up to me. During our fight yesterday, my mother said my refusal to reconcile with Johnny denied her happiness. See, this is the bullshit mind games they like to play. Maybe I should just give up thinking they will ever attain happiness. Without therapy or any real change, they will just continue picking scabs, obsessing over what’s wrong rather than what’s right in their lives. They will always choose misery and the scapegoating that accompanies that.

Needless to say, this morning (before the family lunch) J and I awoke up to my parents fighting. Again, my mother was blaming my father for all kinds of shit from our childhood… dad argues no one can do a better job as a provider than he, blah, blah. To be honest, mom’s a shitty debater. I mean, she has no logic. But dayum, she just needles and needles and needles, and then my dad totally blew up. Super loud and pissed. I haven’t heard him that angry in decades. I finally had to interject and tell him to step away. And then I told my mom: you are sacrificing all other relationships for this one relationship with my brother. If Johnny’s indeed such a great person like you say he is, how come he never answers your calls. How come he never calls you back? How come he never checks in to see how you are doing? What exactly does he do that is so damn thoughtful and caring and good? No one is telling you not to have a relationship with him, but we are free to decide our own relationships with him. Don’t blame others to justify his flaws and shortcomings: blame yourself for insisting on ignoring them and blame Johnny for his own behaviors. Every year I come back to Taiwan and put up with your bullshit and arguing. I’m not doing it anymore. I said it calmly and then I walked out of her room.

Later, J and I were eating breakfast and dad came out. You need to watch what you say to your mother. I dunno if he was referring to what I said this morning or what transpired last night. I agreed, but shit, she pushes and pushes. Then she jumped in all incredulous, “How do I push you??” You do. How? How do I push you? I just kept quiet but inside, OMFG!!!!!! Are you for. real??? It took all the energy to just leave it alone. After that, J and I left.

“Bye! Have a good time!” they said.

Yeah, right guys. What the fuck ever. I’m having a STELLAR time.

Fuck man, I had a feeling the Johnny conversation was on the verge of rearing its godawful, ugly-ass head. Boy was my intuition spot. on. Let’s set up the scene for this latest Perfect Storm.

Yesterday, I had another sleepless night: In addition to last minute logistical delays with the Walkersville townhouse transaction, I just couldn’t stop thinking about all the conversations and drama that had occurred that day in the car. I had to get it all out. Needless to say, I had a lot on my mind, and I was already approaching a very high sensitivity level with my parents.

So today (Friday), we got up early bc my aunt and cousin in Tainan got us tickets for an origami exhibit. My mother had mentioned it the first day I got back, and I happened to see the banner ad for it in the train station, so I made arrangements with my cousin to set it all up. John drove us up. It was a lovely, well-done museum, with a combo of natural history, sculpture, history, and the origami show. It was a pretty good day despite the high temps and totally suffocating humidity. We hit up the exhibits, grabbed a tasty Thai lunch, and then drove home.

Intermittently throughout the day, my mother kept trying to call my brother to ask him about attending the family lunch tomorrow. He never answered her calls, so thinking this was a technical glitch or something, she asked me to call. I refused and just showed her how to call again using her phone. It’s not a technical problem, mom. He is just NOT ANSWERING your calls. As usual. Duh.

After we get home, she asks me about ride logistics, bc there are a lot of people going tomorrow. I tell her I’m contacting my cousin who lives down the street from my parents to hitch a ride, bc my parents can only fit themselves and the grandparents in their one car. Since my parents have the bigger car, I figure, John and I will sit in my cousin’s smaller Toyota Tercel. Long story short, she reveals that Johnny is supposed to come down tomorrow and he’ll also need a ride to Donggang, where the restaurant is. So my mom suggests that the caretaker stay home. I think it’s super rude to exclude the caretaker, bc it’s also her one chance to leave the house and to meet up with the other caretaker… Then, my mom launches into a huge thing about how I’m more compassionate to outsiders than to my own brother. Are you for real? What the hell is wrong with you?

Within a matter of seconds, full blown war erupts, with John sitting in the bed next to me and my mother standing in front of me yelling back and forth. I tell her that there is enough room for everyone, including my brother, with the two cars. She keeps going back to me wanting to include the caretaker for an event that has nothing to do with her… I’m like, look. You need transport. We have enough space for everyone to go. Then she’s like, “I thought you said the cousin’s car is too small.” (Do you see how she just needles?) I have to explain to her a gabillion times, finally even drawing her a goddamn picture, to show that the cousin’s car IS smaller but we can still squeeze all the passengers. Then she goes off about how I’m mistreating my brother: he is trying to befriend me and I’m so mean and I won’t even go visit him in Taipei.

Um, hello: news flash. I don’t spend time and money every year to visit my lame-ass, selfish, irresponsible brother, ok? The trip is not for him. Second, if he’s trying to befriend me, why have I not received a single email or text or call from him on this trip?

At this point, I have totally lost it and I’m like getting more and more agitated when she brings up the car transport thing again. Then she starts preaching about family. What, you mean the family that you keep complaining about (my dad’s relatives), who also happen to be the ones helping to take care of your own parents when you are back in the States???

And yes, about the cars (again): there is enough room for everyone. I tell her she is fucking mental and needs to go get checked. Then she angrily starts yelling at me and gets closer, “What kind of attitude is this that you have? You don’t need to embarrass Johnny in front of other people and make him lose face in front of the family.” I then counter-escalate with even more rage. I am so fucking angry, my body is quaking and I’m like ready for a fist fight throw down. For reals. NO ONE on this planet enrages me more than my mother.

Oh hell no, you are NOT going to blame ME for damaging his reputation. He does that well enough on his own. I mean, I don’t even know why we are having this conversation. Homeboy lives in Taiwan. He can find his own fucking way to the restaurant. Why does he even need to hitch a ride? Then she keeps asking me if my cousin is going to take us. I don’t know yet: she has not yet replied to my texts. Jesus fucking Christ. She’s all over the godddamn map. ARGH!!!!

John grabs my hand and just starts squeezing it. Anyway, the yelling continues back and forth. I will never be his friend. She says I should be more than his friend. No, I shouldn’t. And for someone who doesn’t even communicate with her own brother, fuck off.

I have no idea what anyone else was doing while all this shit was going down. I think the caretaker was giving my grandfather a massage; my grandmother and father were both sleeping. I dunno. I tell mom that anytime Johnny contacts me, it’s to recruit me for his stupid cult. She replies, so what if you attend his event and go to show support. So what???

OMG, I hate her! Hello, this trip is NOT for him. Why the hell would I waste my personal time to be bullied by strangers and religious fanatics? Also, why should I go up to Taipei to visit him? I have flown halfway across the world. He can fucking take the train and visit the family down south. She makes me so out-of-my-mind angry. You are the parent. Parent however way you like, but you don’t get to tell me how to be his sister.

As it turns out, the cousin has already left town, so she can’t even give us a ride. And my mom had hinted that Johnny usually runs late. See? Entitled as fuck. Everyone is supposed to bend over backwards to accommodate him, to help and serve him. Fuck you. He can hitch his own taxi to the restaurant.

After she leaves my room, I just sit there stewing. So fricking angry. And then the tears come. Why does she pull this bullshit every damn time? I hate her. This changes everything. Fuck it, I can’t live with them. They are going to have to figure out where they want to go when they are old. I cannot handle being in her proximity.

Afterwards, John and I go for a walk. What the hell does she want from me? He says my parents want me to take over their role with him… Not gonna happen. You chose to be parents. I didn’t. So what’s the resolution? J says I just have to make it through the remaining days here. My parents and I will never agree about my brother, bc we have two very different value systems. All parties recognize that, so there is no point in discussing it any further. Neither side will ever convince the other. He says to just say, “I’ll think about it.” That’ll prevent escalation and defer the topic until next time. Given my history with my parents, can this even be done?

Admittedly, part of the problem is that, like my father, I have my reasons for my positions and I like to defend them. I also like to squeeze in the very last word. That is how I grew up. Learned behavior. Obviously, this strategy doesn’t work so well, but the new tactic entails swallowing my pride, letting them say what they want to say, and letting it wash over. Yup, this sounds like a completely impossible task for me. I guess I’ll try it though over the next few days.

Honestly, I feel like my mother just keeps picking old scabs, damaging our relationship (and all her relationships) further in order to defend and support her position with my brother. Look, do what you want with him, but you’re not going to make me take him on as a project. Been there, done that.

The sad thing is, I think I’m done with her. I’m going to still come back to Taiwan to visit my grandparents, but I’m not going to coincide my trips with hers. I just refuse to continue having these blowouts with her into my 40s. Done.

J and I arrived in Taiwan late Saturday. Note to self for next time: If flying from Seoul, fly into Kaohsiung instead of Taipei. That would shave off a 20-minute bus ride and 90-minute train ride. Anyway, the first day reunited with the fam was rather challenging. When you’re used to just calling your own shots without having to brief or answer to anyone, it becomes a huge point of contention when someone else starts giving unsolicited instructions and advice. I mean, truth be told, my relationship with my parents has almost always been this way but I dunno: somehow it just never gets easier for me. Hence, my nickname as leader of the Hothead Mafia.

The good news is that J and I are finally gaining more freedom in terms of being able to run off on our own without chaperones. But I had an interesting epiphany about all of this. My friend K has described this dichotomy before: it’s essentially the collective vs. individual debate. With the Taiwanese, you do everything together. Anytime there’s an activity, everyone is invited.

So for example, my fav cousin A invited J and me to visit him in Tainan on Monday night after he got off work. We thought he was going to take the two of us out for street food and then tour the famed night markets. Well, after we showed up, his parents were all surprised that my parents didn’t come with. Um, you didn’t say for all of us to join…

The next day, a different cousin invited us out for Korean food. She’s the cousin who is a language teacher (English and Korean) and has traveled to S. Korea multiple times. Again, we show up and she asks where my parents are… Um, I didn’t know you were inviting them too… apparently, it’s assumed.

The third time this difference in thinking emerged was when my youngest aunt complained to me about how on several occasions, when she stopped home unexpectedly, she discovered the the caretakers (both from Indonesia) had cooked their own native dishes and were enjoying the meals among themselves. My aunt was outraged: how dare they use the ingredients that I buy to secretly make foods that they don’t even share with all of us? All of the foods they make for us, we share generously with them… She was so pissed and insisted that it was a breach of rank. I didn’t get it. at all. They are migrants. They work 24/7 in your house, cleaning and cooking your cuisines… maybe they are homesick and they just want to eat dishes from home. My family generally does not like spicy foods, and Indonesian dishes are often very spicy… I really didn’t read it as an affront at all, but my aunt insisted that if it wasn’t inappropriate behavior, why were they doing it in secret?! Anyway, it was a very bizarre conversation and it made me feel really sorry for the caretakers. My grandparents all look amazing and it is due to the constant care by these hardworking women. Seriously, they leave their families to work in another country where they have to learn a new language, and they have zero time off. I guess it’s technically unscheduled time off, like if the old people are sleeping and you’ve already done the laundry, mopped the floors, cleaned the house, and cooked the meals, THEN you are free to retire to your room to rest. But fuck man, the work is brutal.

I argued with my aunt that just bc you employ them doesn’t mean you own their lives. I dunno. My aunt claims that my family is far more generous to the caretakers than other Taiwanese families. Her friends apparently do not allow the workers to eat the food they eat or to eat alongside them. It’s a very bizarre old time, Downton Abbey kind of hierarchy. My aunt was even claiming that the older lady, who takes care of BOTH my grandfather and grandmother, is lazy and not as meticulous as the other. But shit, since I have been here, I have felt exhausted seeing the amount of work this woman does. And actually, now that my parents are back and the caretaker and my grandparents are staying in the Kaohsiung condo together, I hope she is getting some respite from my slave driver aunt. I mean, to me, the lady is responsible for caring for the old people. Should her job description also encompass all household duties for like 3 extra people in the family??? Seems way excessive to me.

All of this is another reminder to me about how fortunate I really am. This privilege thing just blows my mind. And it also makes me so scared and angry about Trump and his inflammatory rhetoric. Immigrants leave their families and their homes bc their conditions back home are dire and desperate… Can you imagine the level of poverty and hopelessness that would compel someone to leave her two children for at LEAST three years straight? It’s so easy for a spoiled asshole like Trump to blame crime and rape and whatever social ills on immigrants, but fuck man, the immigrants I know: they work harder than anyone, bc they have made real fucking sacrifices to put skin in the game. This is not a goddamn joke.

There are other reminders for me on this trip. I am def super defiant, and if I weren’t born the daughter of the one person in my father’s family who established life in the States, what might have happened to me? There are so many rules here… sure, every culture has it’s ways but again, I do NOT do well prioritizing the collective. I want my independence. I don’t want to sacrifice for others. I don’t want to be burdened with having to keep the family unit together, you know? I want to live where I want, to do what I want, to think how I want… part of my struggles growing up had to do with this very stark clash between cultures. After all, my parents never fully assimilated to American culture, so all this drama about my estrangement with my brother and my family constantly insisting to me that “blood is thicker than water…” it has been a breeding ground for many decades of conflict.

The other day even, my eldest aunt kept commenting about how I should reach out to my brother. “You only have one brother… Look at how much I respect and love my brother (meaning, my father). What would I ever do without him.” I mean, as I’ve mentioned before, she’s like ridic with how much she idolizes my father, but to all that bullshit, I just said: “Well, your brother is nothing like my brother.”

I mean, it’s not necessarily all blamed on culture. I have American friends who have said to me, “Life is short.” I agree. Some fights are petty, and it’s silly for people to just keep holding grudges. The thing is though, this is what has to be done to preserve my own sanity. I’ve tried the whole “help us by helping Johnny” thing and that has NEVER worked. For me, the solution was to step away and just drop the toxic relationship. It’s not about money. It’s not about my parents giving him money or supporting him or whatever. Bottom line is that he’s not a mature, responsible adult. I’m not a parent, and I’m certainly not HIS parent, so I’m not going to put up with his selfish, immature bullshit. I won’t.

Needless to say, direct confrontations re: these age-old issues have waned in recent years, but they continue to be top of mind at every single visit. And as someone who listens and is sensitive to what/how things are said, the pressuring and blaming and insinuations just really get under my skin.

My father says he hasn’t even harassed me about the kid-free thing. Um ok, maybe not directly. But when you say, “Oh, whenever I get together with my friends and they all talk about their grandkids, I don’t have anything to share or say. So I don’t want to socialize with people anymore, bc I have nothing to talk about,” you ARE saying something to me. Here’s the thing: You can’t blame me for you not having hobbies or things to talk about. That’s just an excuse. You have a gabillion things going on: projects, investments, travels, whatever. Why are grandkids the ONLY acceptable topic? It’s bullshit. And you also can’t blame me for ruining your life or for thwarting your happiness. You need to be accountable: your happiness stems from you, not me. Fuck yeah, I called him out on this shit. And he wasn’t pleased. Then, I took it another step further. His best friend in Ohio has two daughters, both over 40 and both unmarried and child-free. Does his friend walk around moaning and groaning about how unhappy their situation makes him? No. He just says: that’s their life. They have to live their lives. Yeah, he wishes they were married but their lives are their own.

My dad says his father is always pressuring him about the family line going extinct. I said, well, it’s not right that he keeps harassing my dad about it. Frankly, what the hell does a 90+ y/o man know about living in modern society? Please. Step the fuck off.

So yeah, there have been some conversations. There are a lot of methods my paternal grandfather uses that I don’t like. For example, he always says so wistfully to my father: if only you could have retired sooner; then you could have spent more time with your mother when she was alive. Ugh, WTF? What is done is done. Maybe she should have moved to the US so she could have spent more time with my dad and his family… You know what I mean? We all make choices using the info and circumstances we know at the time. What is the point of regret? Maybe there’s a cultural difference: the Chinese always tend to be obsessed with sacrifice and woe is I mentality, but wouldn’t it have been better if my grandfather had simply said, “Your mother would have been so proud to see all that you have done and to have you home again…”

I know, here I am doing some major backseat parenting… Ugh. Like I said, every visit is a work in progress. On the plus side, Martin seems to be doing well. I’ve had some wonkiness with my home cameras and the sitter hasn’t been giving too many updates, but at this point, the most important thing is that Marty is well and we get to see him when we get home.

The most curious thing happened to me the other day. I was out late making a diaper run for Marty. Yup, the night before our flight out, I hit up the PetSmart. While I was in the aisle trying to figure out what brand and what size, Dad Facetimed me. Yes, now that I’ve turned him on to FT, Dad is using that shit all the damn time. And then sometimes, he doesn’t even know the video is on, so I just see his ear bc he’s holding it like a regular phone. On this particular occasion, I saw his face, but the image was upside down. SMH. So anyway, Dad launches right into his tech troubles. He wrote an email and pressed send, but it wasn’t showing up in the his Sent Mail folder. This same issue happened two days ago, and when I checked his email on my phone, there were like three of the same damn message in the Sent Mail. WTF. Anyway, I tried to troubleshoot and then I got so irritated, bc every damn time, it’s the same cluelessness. First, he kept insisting it was a problem related to his email being hotmail but him using Outlook. No, that’s NOT the problem! Then, I ask if he has internet. Can he close the browser. What is the browser? Then, he says there’s some error saying the message couldn’t send due to an incorrect email address. Ok, can you put the pointer over the To box. What is the pointer? ARGH!!! I mean, if you are going to use the goddamn computer and internet, can you please learn the basic terminology, like home button, start button, cursor/pointer, window, and browser? Jesus Christ. I was getting so annoyed at the store. So then he keeps going on, and I’m checking out. The poor cashier dude. I told my dad to hold on while the sales guy told me about some charity promo and then an upcoming Halloween for Pets event. I did not engage, and I was probably super rude. Then, he complimented me on my brows. Said they looked amazing. So nice, right? I felt bad for being a distracted beotch.

I got into the car and proceeded with the troubleshooting. Every step is like impossible, so I said I was headed home and I’d call him back. Again, thank fucking goodness for remote computer access. Turns out the sent mail box was sorted by name rather than by date. After we got that done, dad kept asking me if I was ok. I mean, I hate when he asks that, which is like every damn time, bc it’s not like my parents have ever been able to handle any real response to that question, you know? And then he said I looked really haggard and tired. Yeah, no shit. Then, he goes off on a whole spiel about taking my allergy meds and doing the nasal spray. Ugh. Enough already. I’m 40 y/o: I am not my brother. I don’t need to be told how and when to wipe my ass. Anyway, it makes me think about all these personality profiles… for my type, I just really hate being told what to do. Nagging is THE worst way to interact with me. I dunno why my parents always insist on applying the same exact approach for everybody.

I know, I should cut them a break. Parenting is hard and all. Still. Just like how they wish I were different in so many ways (namely with the childfree thing), I wish they were different. Like the other day, dad was giving me the entire play-by-play on how to take the bus from the airport to the train station. Um, I did the exact thing last year. On my own (no Bubbey). I got it. It’s called the internet. But he’ll still go on and on. And man, if I’m going to be driving them around in Taiwan, I’m gonna lose my shit for reals if mom repeats her behavior from last year with the annoying as fuck backseat driving…

Ok. Gotta think positively. God help me keep my cool.