top of page

My mom.

“I notice that you share a lot about your dad’s influence on you, but how about your mom?”

This question made me pause and think. 

My parents couldn’t be more different from each other. It’s like yin and yang, soft and tough, meek and bold, slow and fast, water and fire. If my dad takes over the front page, my mom provides quiet support behind the curtain. Their roles rarely switch—I’ve seen them trying, but it usually backfires. I know this might not be the case for all couples, but for my parents, it seems like they both thrive the most when they play true to their roles.

People say I’m just like my dad, but few people know I’m also just like my mom. In fact, while I crave attention and recognition at times, I often feel paralyzed by anxiety when suddenly the attention is on me. My comfort zone lies out of the limelight and behind the curtain. I find fulfillment in helping others shine. I’m as much an introvert as an extrovert. I like keeping it to myself as much as I like sharing my perspective with others. I withdraw into my privacy as much as I express myself in public. I don’t identify myself as an alpha. When someone tells me that I’m a social butterfly, I quickly find myself trying to correct them, as if I feel obligated to defend the part of myself that dislikes small talk and happy hours. I see as much of my mom as I see my dad in me.

Strangely enough, witnessing my parents over more than 30 years of marriage and their duality has taught me a great deal about myself. From enduring heated arguments to arriving at a loving place where they both accept each other as-is, I learn to reconcile within myself, surrendering to my inner seemingly never-ending battle. To find harmony. To heal. To grow.

Indeed, my mom’s influence on me might not be striking and loud, but it runs deep. Like a restless soul needs a gentle breeze to take flight and kiss the sky.



bottom of page