Hello everyone!
Just the other day, I went back to my hometown to visit my parents.
As I walked through the familiar streets for the first time in a while, I noticed that so much had changed. I found myself looking around the whole time.
When I finally reached the hill where my parents’ house stands, a nostalgic breeze drifted through the lush greenery surrounding it.
Since childhood, I had spent countless hours in that garden observing plants and insects.
When I rang the doorbell, my parents welcomed me with warm smiles. We took a walk around the garden together, picked some cucumbers and parsley, and then went inside.
My father and I laid out the futons, my mother and I cooked together, and after dinner, the whole family went for an evening walk.
We laughed a lot while playing a silly word-chain game, and later stayed up late enjoying board games and cards. 😊
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Although I grew up freely and happily in such an environment, things began to feel suffocating when I reached adolescence.
You could call it the typical teenage rebellion.
Even after I became an adult and stopped openly rebelling, there was still a part of me that resisted my parents deep down.
In particular, I often found my mother’s worrying annoying.
Every time she contacted me, I would think:
“Just leave me alone!”
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On the morning I was about to leave for home, an unexpected conversation began between my mother and me.
I became emotional and probably ended up saying things that sounded accusatory.
Even though I needed to leave soon for another appointment, I just couldn’t stop talking. (Laughs)
As we went back and forth, discussing this and that, these words suddenly came out of my mouth:
“I just wanted Mom to acknowledge me…!”
Even I was surprised. 😦
The moment I said it, tears unexpectedly began to flow.
Apparently, this had been my true feeling all along.
Yes, what I really wanted was for my mother to acknowledge me.
I wanted her to say:
“You’ve done so well.”
“I’m proud of who you’ve become.”
Honestly, it’s a little embarrassing. 😂
I’m already forty years old.
But perhaps age doesn’t really matter.
No matter how old we become, children may always want their parents’ approval.
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For years, I had been repeating the same pattern:
Being worried about → Feeling unacknowledged (or not trusted) → Feeling hurt → Rebelling
I often felt frustrated, thinking:
“Why can’t you trust me, even now?”
But my mother, in her own way, wanted acknowledgment from me as well.
Of course, she genuinely worries about her child and wants the best for me.
But at the heart of it, we both wanted the same thing:
We both wanted to be acknowledged.
Realizing that truth was a powerful moment.
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When I think about it now, I had spent so much time focusing only on my own feelings.
I assumed:
“If you’re my parent, you should understand me.”
“If you’re my parent, this is how you should act.”
“I want you to understand and respect me more.”
But had I ever truly listened to my parents’ feelings and perspectives?
Had I ever genuinely tried to understand them as human beings?
Perhaps because we were family, I had taken them for granted.
I had neglected the effort of trying to understand them.
Trying to understand another person.
Respecting them as they are.
These may be important not only in parent-child relationships, but in all human relationships.
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That said, parents have an enormous influence on their children.
From infancy onward, we absorb countless things from them on an unconscious level.
Maybe because they are psychologically so close to us, it’s difficult to be completely honest with them.
Whenever they say something, it’s easy to react with irritation. (Laughs)
Even when we know intellectually that their words come from love, we instinctively push back.
But perhaps the ability to rebel is itself a blessing.
We can rebel because, deep down, we trust completely that our parents will not abandon us, no matter what.
For some reason, that realization brought tears to my eyes. 😂
Parents truly are a gift.
And I’m also grateful to my father, who quietly watched over the conversation between my mother and me.
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For a long time, I wanted to write about my feelings toward my parents, yet somehow could never bring myself to do it.
This visit home finally gave me the opportunity, and with a nervous heart, I decided to put these thoughts into words.
Thank you so much for reading all the way to the end. 🍀
