🎃 OCTOBER IS PLEDGE DRIVE MONTH 🎃

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This week’s question comes to us from Tuan Son Nguyen:

My mom asked a relative to offer me a job that I don’t want. Should I accept it anyway? I’m really scared of disappointing her.

I can’t tell you whether you should take this job or not. There’s too many unknowns. Is it something you’re not good at? Is it something dangerous? Is it something you’re not comfortable doing? Is it something that hurts other people? Is it something you have ethical qualms about? Those are fair reasons not to take a job. But if the reason you don’t want it is because your mom intervened… you’re not going to be the first person who ever got a job because of a relative, so if you need a job, one has presented itself, you can do it, it doesn’t harm others, and that job is the thing between you and putting food in your mouth, don’t look a gift horse in the mouth. Everything is shit right now, and maybe spending six months to a year working for your uncle isn’t the worst thing.

What I want to get to is the second part of your question. “I’m really scared of disappointing her.”

The last time my mom came to visit was maybe ten years ago. We’re sitting at lunch or dinner, or possibly sitting on the couch watching a movie, I cannot remember, and out of nowhere she says “The only time you’ve ever disappointed me…”

PAUSE.

Here’s the thing… my mother has started conversations with this phrase over a hundred times over the years. It always comes out of nowhere. Out of whole cloth. It happens at least once per visit, and maybe every third phone call. It’s not in response to anything else going on, or a question she’s been asked, or even a topic from earlier in the day. It’s more like a clock chime going off because it was time for the clock chime to go off. And like a clock chime going off it tends to get my attention because as many times as I’ve heard “the only time you’ve disappointed me…” the rest of that sentence is always a delightful surprise.

I’ve only ever disappointed her in a thousand different ways.

(For the record, this particular “only time I’ve ever disappointed her” was by moving out before I was thirty. Which is mind boggling to me, and probably to you, but also serves to underscore that we are ultimately not just from different times, but from different cultures altogether. In the homeland, living with your parents into your thirties is the norm. To me, who grew up in a different culture than my parents, it’s just… well it’s weird man. I moved out the day I turned eighteen.)

You will also disappoint your mother in a thousand different ways.

Your mother disappointed her mother in a thousand different ways.

Our parents’ voices live in our heads from the time our brains solidify enough to store memories. And for a while that’s incredibly fucking useful. Don’t cross the street without looking. Don’t eat the dog’s food. Don’t stick that fork in the outlet. Don’t use the stove when I’m not home. Don’t leave money where your father will find it. Don’t go near the unmarked white van. All that stuff was incredibly useful when we were tiny kids, and probably saved our asses more than a few times.

Our parents’, or parent, or whatever guardian figure was responsible for your well-being as a little kid was trying to keep you from getting hurt. That’s commendable. And in a perfect world, those voices start receding as you start growing up. In a perfect world, your parents ease the fuck up and maybe even let you skin your knees a couple of times so that you can start learning those lessons yourself. Unfortunately this is far from a perfect world, and for a lot of parents (and I’m very much including myself in this, even though I wish it wasn’t the case) we look out at the world, and we look at our kids, and we want to keep protecting them, because this world is a lot. So we hover. We keep telling them how to do things, and how to live their lives long past the point where it’s helpful to either party. And the older the kids get, the less likely they are to listen to us and roll their eyes. This is how humans work. So we resort to words like “disappointment” because, honestly, they work better than a shock collar. I’m not angry—I’m disappointed. Brutality. Finish him.

From where she’s standing, your mother is keeping you safe. And while you might not need it anymore, she still thinks you do. I’m not saying she’s right, nor am I saying you need to accept it. I am saying that it’s helpful to understand her reasoning.

The biggest thing that you and your mother have in common is that neither of you are living a practice life. This is your one and only shot at living it. Her care and concern is understandable, she sees taking care of you as her job. But she has dedicated enough of her life to keeping you safe, and it’s time to set her free. She has to go live her life without worrying about you.

Which means you are going to have to become ok with the idea of disappointing her, if only to set her free.

Because while it’s also commendable that you care what she thinks, and want to make her happy, you also need to get out there and live your life. You need to be in charge of yourself. And the space in your head that’s currently reserved for her voice needs to be emptied out because you need space to store all the mistakes you’re going to make. Which I hope are mostly about laundry.

Living your life in order to make someone else happy destroys two lives. It’s a great way to ensure that neither person is following their heart. And ultimately both people end up disappointed.

Growing up Catholic, and going to Catholic school for eight years, there was a lot of talk about giving your life to this person and giving your life to that person, or dedicating your life to this and that person. Even as a little kid, I found this aggravating. This idea that my life was not my own, but that I somehow owed it to someone else. At home, I was getting reminders from my mother that she had “given me life” (another one of her favorite phrases), and at school I was being told that I owed it to Jesus. For a little kid, these are a lotta powerful forces tugging at your life. A thing which you are still awkwardly figuring out how to operate. And you start thinking that maybe it would be easier to hand it over to someone else and see what they can do with it, after all you can’t even tie your shoes without crying. Almost like this is all a test…

Which of course it is.

A test that you pass on the day you disappoint your mother.

As a parent, I’m guilty of hovering over my own kid for far too long. It came from a good place. I wanted to look out for her in a way that my parents didn’t look out for me. She’d tell me she was going out and I’d offer to call her a car. She’d tell me she was taking the bus, and I’d start giving her bus route information. She’d tell me she had it under control, and I’d ask her to recite the bus schedule. To the point where I finally realized that I was no longer doing this for her safety, but for my own anxiety. My attempts to look out for her had now crossed over into keeping her from living her life on her terms. And eventually (after more than a few therapy sessions), I realized the reason I was holding on to her life so tightly is because I was afraid of what my life would be like when it wasn’t so tightly intertwined with hers. The most brutal thing about being a parent is that your heart no longer resides inside your own body, but in someone else’s.

When you give someone life you have to actually give it to them.

You will never live the life your parents want you to lead. And living your own life can be a terrifying thing. That’s kind of the point though. The world is a terrifying place, but it also contains little pieces of wonder and joy. This is your one chance to get out there and find them. Get out there and do some shit that maybe scares you a little bit. Get out there and do some shit that you’ve never tried before. Get out there and find your community. Be useful to others. Be kind. Help people who need your help.

Will your parents agree with your choices? Maybe, but probably not. Will they tell you you’ve disappointed them? Almost certainly. You can’t stop them from saying it, but in time you can stop it from bothering you. And you’ll also be taking ownership of the one life you get, while also freeing them to live their own.

You got this. Go disappoint your mother. It’s exhilarating.

🙋 Got a question? Ask it! (Srsly, I need some questions or this whole thing falls apart.)

📣 If you’re having trouble making the case for your work or for how awesome you are (in the context of a job interview) you should take my Presenting w/Confidence workshop. Next one is Oct 22 & 23. Absolutely worth it.

📣 Erika is holding a Design Research workshop next week and it is very fun.

🦇 Looking for the perfect gift to put in your loved one’s Bela Lugosi stocking this Halloween? I got you! What could be better than my new book How to Die?

🛋️ Need some 1-on-1 advice? I got you there as well.

🍉 Please help the children of Palestine.

🏳️‍⚧️ Please protect trans kids.