Overcoming the Need to Be Strong
This was a talk that I did with MUV talks and Women in Tech Auckland. It resonated with a lot of people so I thought I would share :)
Overcoming the need to be strong
"Stay strong" people always say. But what if I don't want to? What if I am too tired to? What about when I just can't? I think our society overvalues independence and strength but does not hold support, kindness and compassion with enough high regard.
My story starts in childhood. I am an only child. I grew up in China mostly under the care of my grandmother. Mum was hardly home as she was a successful business woman. Dad worked 9-5 but was timid under the reign of my mother and my grandmother. On the one hand, I feel lucky to have grown up in a family of strong women. In my family, women are the ones who work hard, bring home the bacon and make the decisions. On the other hand, I have also always thought this is a very imbalanced family dynamic. My mum and dad separated when I was nine and that too was my mother's decision. Mum single-handedly brought me to NZ when I was 12. She spoke no English, knew no one and my English was limited to "Hi, how are you and I am fine, thank you, and you?".
Looking back, Mum did such a brave thing. Part of me really admired and still admires that strength but part of me also has had to deal with the consequences of this decision. Mum fell into a depression pretty soon after we moved to NZ because it was such a cultural shock and she felt isolated. She felt like a failure that she could not manage this new world. As a child, I didn't have the language to talk about or understand what was happening to her or to me. I just remember everyday when I showered I would hate that time because the world was quiet. It felt empty. It felt meaningless. I would snap myself out pretty quickly after it though, telling myself I needed to be strong. I was the only one she's got. I could not crumble. I shed no tears.
Fast forward 10 years, I was living in Wellington, feeling the freedom of having moved away from my family in Auckland. I had gone on this massive self-awareness journey by volunteering at Youthline as a counsellor and I had switched out of a government policy advice job that didn't suit me to a job that I loved, being an Agile Team Facilitator for Xero. I was having the time of my life and was considering moving to Canada soon with a working holiday visa. Then the incoherent phone calls from my mum came, where she talked about not wanting to live anymore. My grandmother had already moved to NZ at the time and she also confirmed that mum was unstable in her thoughts and feelings. From my counsellor training, I knew my mum's mental health was going downhill and her suicidal risks were increasing. Something had to be done as I could not leave my grandmother to be solely supporting my mother as my grandmother was 80 years old already. I remember feeling like what a sacrifice. There is no 27 year old that I know who needs to take care of their mother, they are all off having the time of their lives. Thank goodness Xero allowed me to transfer to their Auckland office and I literally packed up my life in Wellington in a week and moved home.
The 2am trips to the ED were no fun, explaining mum's multiple suicidal attempts to doctors was surreal and the constant phoning up the mental health units to ask for more support was exhausting. I reminded myself that I had to be strong because there was no one else. That was in fact the reason that I enrolled myself into this 10-day silent meditation retreat called Vipassana because I knew I needed mental training to be able to deal with the stress. I was so grateful that at least this time I wasn't really alone as there was my grandma, who was my solace, my stable force and who cooked me yummy Chinese food.
A couple of years passed by, with me having borne the weight of caring for my mum. Then, I got the news that my grandmother had cancer. The doctor couldn't give us an exact time frame but advised me to get her affairs sorted. I remember one day I was walking with both of my grandma and mum, just to the shops, I laughed, because I have got on the one hand a mentally ill mother and on the other hand a physically ill grandmother. We humans are really good at denying what we don't want to see as a form of self-protectionism. The grief didn't hit me until months later after the initial news. On day 9 of my second 10 day silent meditation retreat, I balled my eyes out. I couldn't stop sobbing. This experience was cleansing and that was the start of me cultivating acceptance, kindness and compassion for myself.
The last few months of grandma's life were a whirlwind. Her three other children flew over from China. We took turns cooking, monitoring grandma's health and bathing her. I had never felt so much support in my life. For once, I didn't need to do everything on my own. I had people to lean on. Of course, being the person who speaks the best English in the family, I was still my grandmother's primary caregiver. I was the person who communicated with the doctor and the hospice. I was the person who picked out the burial plot, the cemetery and arranged for the funerals. I was the one who learnt how to give morphine jabs for my grandma to ease the pain and drew up an emergency plan in case she bleeds excessively from cancer. I was the director of my grandma's affairs you might say although traditionally in Chinese culture, this responsibility rests with my uncle who is the eldest son of my grandma and would definitely have not gone to the younger generation nor the youngest of the family who is also a girl. I often wondered what if I was less capable, what would have happened. Then I reminded myself I came from a family of strong women.
People and friends would say to me during that time, "be strong Suki, you can get through this." to which I would reply I am really tired. What was more helpful was their willingness to be there for me, like being prepared to turn up at my house in the middle of the night in case of an emergency or dropping off groceries or flowers. My growth in that period was asking for help and learning to lean on that help. I felt safe knowing that someone is going to catch me if I fall. I will never forget the kindness I received from my family and friends during that time and I definitely could not have packed up my grandmother's clothes, cleaned up the house or decided on what flowers to get for her funeral without their help.
In the first month after my grandma's death, we were busy, busy with the chores, busy with spending family time together. Then my extended family left for China and I fell into the abyss. I was already not working at the time and I didn't know what to do with myself. Now without the busyness, I could really feel the grief. I felt a hole in my heart because my grandma had been my most loved person in the world. I would often stare at this jade bracelet she had given me trying to remind myself that although she is gone, her love is not yet gone. I know what her love feels like and now it is my turn to give that love to myself. So, I have started a new habit of being kind to myself, simply asking myself what is one kind thing I can do for myself today.
This habit has brought about ripple effects in my life. At the time, being my usual strong self would have meant pretending death is no big deal. I should just get on with life. I should get back out there, try hard, keep pushing uphill because that is what I know best. However, being kind to myself would have meant allowing myself to feel this grief and telling myself that this period of non-productivity is normal and okay. So, for the first time in my life, I truly let myself go. I did whatever I wanted to do without judgment. For three weeks straight, I sat on the couch and watched one Chinese drama after another. Three dramas later, each with over 50 episodes, I clocked in almost 200 hours of TV viewing time. Not only that, I allowed myself to wake up late. I allowed myself to exercise only when I wanted to exercise. I allowed myself compassion.
After about exactly three weeks, something magical happened. I didn't want to watch TV anymore. I had a desire to do something and it wasn't going back to my old job of agile coaching. It was helping people develop personally, raising their self-awareness and helping them to find their purpose in life. I looked at my skill set and qualifications. I have got a strong foundation of coaching and counselling, I have got solid corporate experience and I have been involved in startups so I thought to myself why not start a coaching business. So I did. Progress was slow at the start because I was still grieving, and I only allowed myself to work until what my energy was giving me and I had internal barriers like wanting to plan it all out and do it perfectly. Now after a year and half and lots of failures, I am glad to say that my niche lies in helping ambitious professionals to find their dream job and redefine their grind. A big component of what I coach on is self-kindness and compassion as I reckon that is the key to a successful and meaningful life.
Without those powerful and beautiful experiences of witnessing death and knowing grief, I wouldn't have learnt how normal and healthy it is to allow myself to be weak and vulnerable, how joyful and satisfying it is to lean on others for support and how magical it is to have self-compassion. Yes, mum still struggles with her mental health challenges. Yes, life still throws me curveballs. But now I have cultivated the kindness to overcome the need to be strong.
Thank you and this story is told in honour of my grandmother.