I Am a Director, But My Mother Says I Drive for a Living

Table of Contents

A Life of Modesty and Emotional Struggle

Growing up, I was taught the value of modesty, but not in a way that fostered confidence or self-worth. My mother's approach to raising me was rooted in fear and caution. She often warned that boasting could lead to danger, and this belief shaped her interactions with me throughout my life. As a result, even though I achieved success in my career and built a stable life, she never celebrated these accomplishments.

At 35, I hold a regional director position at a foreign company, which provides financial stability. This allowed me to purchase a home in Ho Chi Minh City, a car, and other assets at a relatively young age. However, my mother never viewed these achievements as something to be proud of. Instead, she emphasized humility to an extreme degree. From an early age, she compared me to top students, even when my grades were better than theirs. When I received good results, she never offered praise or recognition, which led me to study out of duty rather than passion.

This lack of encouragement had long-term emotional consequences. It made me withdraw from social interactions and avoid any opportunities that might bring attention to my achievements. In school, I declined leadership roles and remained quiet in class, focusing more on completing tasks than on excelling.

At 27, I decided to move into my own apartment after purchasing a modest place. My mother reacted strongly, calling me unfilial for not using the money to renovate the family house so we could live together as a multigenerational household. She later visited my new home, only to criticize it and urge me to sell it quickly. She even told relatives that I was living with my wife’s family, a claim that came to light during a relative’s wedding when an uncle questioned why I had moved in with my in-laws.

At 29, I bought a car to ensure my wife and child could travel safely. I chose an affordable model, yet my mother criticized me, saying I was spoiling my family. During the Lunar New Year, I insisted on driving the car instead of riding a motorbike to visit relatives. My mother told everyone that I worked as a driver and that the car belonged to the company. From that point on, I stopped sharing details about my personal life with her.

I later upgraded to a higher-end apartment, bought land, and saved gold—all without my mother knowing. On one occasion, when it was just the two of us, I asked why she was never proud of me and why she downplayed all my achievements so severely.

She responded by saying, "People die because of what they say. Don’t boast. I’m helping you." While I understand that she meant well, her actions have left deep emotional scars. Her constant criticism has undermined my confidence and led me to live a very introverted life. I barely keep in touch with my extended family, focusing only on work and earning money, which I rarely spend.

From clothes and furniture to housing and cars, I choose the most basic options, prioritizing my wife and child. Although I have accumulated significant assets, I feel empty, like a machine that only earns money. If my mother had offered even a little encouragement—such as saying I was "average" or "doing fine"—my life could have been different.

I have never liked showing off, but she made me feel small and inadequate. I worked hard to build assets partly to make her proud and ensure that she and my small family could live comfortably. Perhaps even in old age, I will still be unable to find a sense of purpose or meaning in life.