How I Came to Value My Protective Immigrant Upbringing

In my family, expressing love was seldom done openly. My parents, immigrants, rarely showed affection in physical or verbal ways. Among friends, it’s often said that our Chinese parents communicate their care primarily through food. “Eat more!” they would insist, even when we were already full. My father, however, had a different way of showing his concern—through a constant worry for the safety of me and my brother.

As children, we were restricted from activities that might result in injury. Skiing was off-limits, despite living just minutes from the slopes, and I often had to sit out while my friends enjoyed ice skating. My brother, who had a nut allergy, missed out on almost all extracurricular activities and even resorted to setting up a tent in his bedroom to satisfy his scout fantasies. Team sports? Forget about it for both of us.

As my father aged, his anxiety seemed to deepen. I recall a family trip to an unfamiliar city when I got lost while searching for a taxi stand. When I finally returned, he was visibly shaken, convinced I had been kidnapped and almost ready to call the police. Similarly, when my brother missed a flight home from college, my dad panicked, fearing the worst—“His plane must have been hijacked!” he exclaimed, leaping to conclusions.

After college, I was eager to establish my independence and took a job across the country. I wanted to take control of my life and avoid any unnecessary stress from my father, despite knowing his intentions were rooted in love.

But his attempts to control me continued from afar. During my first year in Washington, DC, coinciding with the start of the second Iraq War, my dad bought child-sized Israeli gas masks from eBay. “You must carry one at all times!” he insisted, while recommending that I avoid the subway in favor of buses, which he deemed safer. It felt absurd, but I complied, feeling ridiculous with a gas mask in my bag. After two weeks of questioning my sanity, I stashed the masks and resumed taking the subway.

That same year, the SARS outbreak emerged in Asia. My father somehow acquired a small supply of Tamiflu, despite shortages. “Don’t share it with anyone,” he warned, “This could save your life.” I appreciated his concern but felt it was unnecessary to live in constant fear.

Years later, when I became pregnant during the Zika virus outbreak, the calls intensified. “Don’t go outside!” he urged, “Keep the windows closed!” I knew there were no reports of the virus near me, but instead of arguing, I promised my unborn child a more carefree childhood.

Then the COVID-19 pandemic struck. In the past decade, my father had suffered two serious heart attacks and developed several chronic conditions, making him high-risk. He stopped leaving the house and began praying for protection from the virus. “I will definitely die if I get it,” he admitted, sounding defeated. I recognized he might be right.

Seeing my father in such a vulnerable state stirred feelings within me that I had long suppressed. It felt unfair that I had distanced myself from him for my own mental health, all while he had focused solely on his family’s well-being.

Now, living several hours away from my father, who is hesitant to travel despite being vaccinated, it has nearly been two years since my five-year-old last saw him. The pandemic has highlighted the value of relationships, reminding us not to take one another for granted.

I hope to visit soon. Even though the thought of hugging him still feels awkward (our last hug was probably in Kindergarten), I can already picture the big embrace my son will give his grandfather, lighting up my dad’s face with joy.

For more insights on parenting and the journey of family, you can check out our other blog posts, including those on home insemination kits, which provide valuable resources like this. And for those considering their options, this is a great guide on insemination kits. Additionally, March of Dimes offers excellent resources for pregnancy and home insemination.

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In summary, my journey of understanding my father’s overprotectiveness has transformed from frustration to appreciation. His actions, rooted in love and concern, have shaped my perspective on family and relationships, especially during these challenging times.

Keyphrase: immigrant upbringing appreciation

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