As Chinese people, we have always been reserved and understated in matters of the heart. There are things we simply cannot bring ourselves to say out loud — just like her.
She is always slightly furrowed at the brow, disapproving of this or that about you, always trying to steer your life — yet she never once said plainly: I truly love you. I care about you so deeply. I cannot bear to see you suffer, which is why I rush so anxiously to make your decisions for you.
This is my first time being a mother too. Even though I am far from exceptional or wise, I still want to help you with every small detail of your life.
Yes, she was once a carefree girl — with her own dreams and her own freedom. Until the day you were born.
From that day forward, the resentment and the anger were real. But so was the love. So was the worry.
The love between blood is like that: three parts warmth, seven parts burning flame.
One careless moment, and you both get singed.
And yet — the universe is boundless, and life stretches endlessly.
In all this world, only she once shared the very same heartbeat as you.
And only she will, even while speaking words of complaint and criticism, give the most beautiful years of her life — without a moment’s hesitation — to be by your side.
She is no superhero. She is no saint. But she did everything a mother could do, with everything she had — even if imperfectly.
So: let some things go. Turn the page.
She is growing older, and you have grown up. Perhaps it is time to make peace — to let it all settle.
You don’t need to send a long, tearful message. You don’t need to buy elaborate, carefully chosen gifts.
The era she grew up in made it genuinely hard for her to understand these modern expressions of love.
But when you have a quiet moment — hold her. In the evenings, sit with her, talk about nothing much, let her ramble on.
She will feel your love. She will know.
And that is more than enough.
Wishing every mother good health, true happiness, and lasting peace. ❤️