it's not too late to talk to your parents

30 Apr, 2025

for a long time, 'my dad having another family' was the front page of my trauma. it's digestible, easy to consume¹, character building with a dash of humor, it's friendly. it's a very specific asian version of kids of divorce but if you think about it, it's actually more traumatizing that they never did.

this story held strong for a while, gave me enough resilience to not be a fucking square, and provided just enough cover to hide other failings. something you can say on first dates that allows people to fantasize about saving you without scaring them (oh, your dad had another family? that must have been rough). people like their trauma palatable.

but see, the thing about life is that it's much longer you think. one year turns into three² then some more. and suddenly it takes a betterhelp life coach³ to ask: is this story one you need to keep repeating? what do you get out of this? is this story still relevant?

maybe she was simply saying, get a grip.

i lived, for a long time, in a household where there was:

1. a parent that's actively unhappy, didn't know how to process their pain, wore it like a badge and held the whole house hostage with it.
2. a parent that cheated, was deeply selfish. and a liar. also deeply unhappy.

i spent a long time trying to change my parents. change their relationship with each other, break them apart, put them together.

tell me what you want.

i can fix this.
i can fix this.
i can fix this.

it took me well in to my 30s to realize i can't save my mom's relationship with my dad. i can't change how my sister feels. i no longer mirror their anger as my own.

i wanted a real relationship with my father.

my father who never replied to my texts for years. my father who never gave us a real shot. but he's also my dad who gave me quarters to buy bbq lay's at his job. my dad who took me to black angus⁴ on my birthday every year. my dad who gave me a piggyback ride after every dinner out and promised he'd do it forever.

as my solidcore coach, harrison, would say 'nothing changes if nothing changes'⁵. so we started small. slowly spending time in the same room. i text him about work. i text him good news. i tell him when i'm scared. i cry. vulnerability builds trust. and i trust him. that lets him trust me too. he's my dad and he's not alone.

i spent a better part of my adulthood assuming my parents had zero interest in sharing their lives with me. but i learned so much about my dad in the past year, why his back hurts ⁶, his own feelings of rejection, responsibility, and obligations. how he wants to travel city by city in china when he gets older. how he wants someone to travel with. i'd like to make that dream come true for him one day.

there's a lot of power in forgiveness and exploring old stories. questioning them. rewriting the future. sometimes we gaslight ourselves into forgetting what was true. there was a time i did hate him, needed to believe he never cared, that none of it was real out of necessity. people love clean breaks and stories, including myself.

but it was real. he did love me. and still does.

my dad returns my texts now.

#family