How I stopped fighting with my mom

It’s just not about me, but it is up to me

“I can’t believe my own daughter doesn’t want to spend time with me.”

If I stay at my parents’ house long enough, I’m bound to get something like this hurled at me. This in particular was what my mom said after I said no to her request to tag along my business trip. It was day seven of staying with my mother, so I was reaching my limit.

This happens every time I visit my childhood home. It’s a pattern. She’d comment about the way I dress (not ladylike enough), but I would try to ignore it, telling myself that we only meet twice a year. But then my mom would get antsy. She’d say something (“you just ignore everyone when you’re on your laptop”) and retract it. I’d pick up on her heightened nerves and tiptoe around her in return. I don’t want to be the one that sets her off. Then in the middle of a conversation, say, about where I can relocate to after obtaining my Hong Kong permanent resident card, she’d exclaim some guilt-inducing rhetorical question like “Hear that, Dad? Our kids are going to abandon us when we’re old”. I’d bite my tongue for five seconds (a losing battle) and then just absolutely lose it. Then my mom would give me the silent treatment for two days. I’d roll my eyes, seething with a mix of guilt and anger, and be passive aggressive at every chance I get.

It’s good that my mom and I live in different countries. We have a tolerable relationship because of the five-hour plane ride between us. If we had continued to stay in the same house, the city may have imploded. It’s for the world’s benefit that my mom and I aren’t the latest addition to the Ring of Fire.

But that’s Becky from 2022, one that thought it was all about her. In 2023, she would pick up a skill that would change the trajectory of all her relationships. Especially the ever-explosive mother-daughter one.

The tools: listening in a conversation

The big change started at the gym.

Not the kind where barbells and treadmills are involved. But the ones that we run at the online writing course I attend, Write of Passage. We call them ‘sparring gyms’, and they are a structured hour dedicated to brainstorming ideas for an essay. Two people who get paired up by the Zoom algorithm take turns sharing their thoughts, while the other person helps to sharpen the idea. To illustrate the dynamic turns of phrases exchanged, we call the idea exchanges “sparring”.

At the beginning of every cohort, our Spar King and gym chief

Rik

shares some tips to be a good conversation partner:

1. Mirror what they are saying. If the other person couldn’t find the words, we’re helping them do that simply by reflecting and paraphrasing what we hear from them.

2. Ask questions to clarify or expand on a point. This helps them to dig deeper on bits that would otherwise have been glossed over.

3. Summarize or synthesize the idea. A clear idea can be simplified into one sentence. This is usually very difficult to do ourselves because we’re so deep into the idea. It’s hard to read the label from inside the bottle. A partner from the outside can help us get there quicker.

Although these seem like tiny tips for a better conversation about writing, they originated from coaching skills. Perhaps subconsciously, I started taking these tools out of the gyms and into my real life conversation with friends. When we are catching up over coffee or a meal, I just let them go on with their stories without interrupting with my story or my opinion. Even better when they’re ranting or venting — I could practice my skills even more.

These conversations are often a release valve. They just need to let things out. The initial thing we say usually isn’t what we actually mean and is often not the most important thing. Mirroring makes them feel heard, helping to dig underneath the first layer. Questions help to clarify thoughts that have been fermenting in their head for so long. Summarizing helps them to hone in and discover what they’re actually talking about and why it’s important to them.

I’m usually quick to offer help — I pride myself on being effective and fixing a situation — but unsolicited advice won’t help them. No matter how close we are, I am still an outsider to their specific situation. They already know what they need to do. They just need a good listener to help bring it out of them.

The attitude: go into a conversation with the intention to listen

After practising this for a year — weekly in my own writing group and in casual conversations with people in my life — I noticed a shift in how I approach my catch up with friends. I now meet them with the intention to listen. The result is a natural curiosity about what goes on in their lives, what their priorities are at the moment, what values are driving their decisions.

The intention shifts the spotlight away from me. When they’re talking, my life updates suddenly seem less important, so I don’t share much until I’m asked. I hold back on other bits too. I no longer jump in when I disagree with their course of action. There have been times where I’ve asked them, “Do you need a hug or some help?”

I take it as a little bit of a success when friends go, “Ohmygosh I’ve been yapping about myself for the past hour.” I’m happy to just listen. Plus when they ask, “Okay enough about me, how about you?”, I can launch into my story without feeling guilty because the other person already had their air time.

Having done this many times also made me think: if I can do this with my friends, surely I can do this with my parents. The last time I met my parents was before I had acquired this conversation approach. When I booked a trip to see them, I wanted to put my newly acquired listening skills to the test.

The belief: it’s not about me

I can’t remember the last time I met my parents without an agenda.

We’ve been at odds for the longest time. Ever since I came out, we’ve tiptoed around my sexuality because it was a landmine that can ruin a reunion. They keep trying to convince me that I’m not gay. I keep trying to be a good daughter despite being gay. I’d hop on my flight back to Hong Kong feeling exhausted and defeated. I was fighting an uphill battle that just got harder with each visit.

I’m always trying to prove something. The last time I saw them, I was trying to show that my sexuality doesn’t negate me from being a good daughter. I tried to treat them to nice meals, helped around with their businesses, upgraded their house appliances. If they said something I didn’t agree with, I’d put out an argument, thinking that this would show I’m respecting them by engaging in a civil discourse. I was acting what I thought a great daughter would do, putting on a performance for the two people that raised me.

But this time, equipped with my newly acquired conversation tools and attitude, I just listened. It didn’t matter if I disagreed with their stance on refugees or if I thought their eating habits were unhealthy. I didn’t say so unless inquired. Instead of performing, I was just listening.

These conversations weren’t about me. These conversations were my parents needing to say what they couldn’t have said before. They wanted to be useful by imparting their hard-earned knowledge. They wished to share opinions they are too scared to say to their friends. They needed their daughter to listen, truly listen, for the very first time.

I don’t need to be right. Just as I don’t need validation from other people to determine my self worth, I don’t need my parents to change their views for my opinions to be worth something. It’s not about me, but it’s up to me to pivot how I approach this parental-daughter relationship and every other relationship in my life.

For what must be a world record somewhere, the trip was ten days and I didn’t fight with my mom once.

Tools to attitudes to belief

Tools can affect attitudes which can affect belief. This chain of reactions came out at our last sparring gym session (on brand) where Rik was talking about how practicing simple tools can lead to an entirely different attitude, and that in turn can solidify into someone's beliefs.

And how my beliefs shifted indeed.

Sure, it can be argued that these conversation tools weren’t the only factor. I also went through therapy that helped me process my feelings towards parents. I stepped away from communicating with my parents and had time to cool down. I found comfort in my chosen family and also myself which made the yearn for validation from my parents obsolete.

But the conversation toolkit was the first step in catalyzing all of this. Before I could make any progress in any relationship, I had to first learn how to listen.

My tips? Mirror, ask questions, summarize.

Thank you to friends whom I spent scores of hours in sparring gyms with:

Rik

and

Lavinia Iosub

. Rik’s piece that was sparked by the exact same conversation is here.

How to stop fighting with your family

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Update log:

• 😷 I’m still coughing. I’m guessing this is just how my body will be post-COVID? It’s been two weeks and I’m so tired of being sick.

• 📘 Finished The Millionaire Fastlane by MJ DeMarco. I think the true “meat” is from section 7 / chapter 29 onwards.

• 📖 Reading Bond: Belonging and the Keys to Inclusion and Connection by Greg Morley (65% completed).

• 🎲 Played a couple new light and fun board games with new friends over the weekend: Raccoon Robbers and Heat.

• 📺 Watching Abbott Elementary season 3 on Disney+. Man the show is so funny.

• 📹 On the YouTube channel: Setting up the Cup Easel Lite - How to Switch and Add Shelves.

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