Dear moms – please raise your sons with emotional intelligence. Dear men – take care of your emotions too. You’re human. Not a machine.

Today is Mother’s Day. A day to celebrate the women who gave us life, love, and lessons. So why am I thinking about men? Because of my dad. Again. I just came back from my mom’s place. It was a small, quiet celebration – no fancy dinner, no big gathering. I baked her a simple Cantonese dessert: steamed silky egg pudding. I paid her shelf. Just a gesture. Nothing grand. I’m not a saint. I’m a student. I don’t have much. But I know what I want to give. And one thing is certain: I’ll always give to my mom. Even when I have almost nothing left for myself. Why? Because she gave me everything when I needed it. No conditions. Just love. That’s why I know where “home” really is. And I’m proud – endlessly proud – to call this woman my mother. This year felt different. We didn’t do the usual cake and family dinner. “Too crowded,” she said. “And tomorrow I need to get up at six to take care of the kids.” Yes, at 66 she’s still raising babies. Two and four years old. And no – not because she wants to. It’s her “job.” My sisters? Not broke. Not overwhelmed. They just conveniently outsource parenthood – to our mom. No pay. No groceries in the house for her. Just enough food for the kids. They say, “Other grandmas would be happy to take care of their grandchildren for free.” Sure – for an afternoon. Not for years. Ironically, when we were kids, our own grandma raised us too. But my mom paid her – 1.000 Mark per month. That was 40 years ago. A strong wage back then. And now? My mother gets nothing. Not even respect. She works. She cooks. She wakes up at dawn. And she gets… dismissed. So yes, I’m angry. But more than that, I’m tired of generational sacrifice being treated like a default setting. My mother saw her mother give up everything. And now she repeats the same pattern – believing this is what love means. But when do we teach our daughters and sons that love isn’t supposed to look like self-erasure? My grandma is now 86 and needs care. Nine kids. Only one daughter stepped up – the youngest, with a toddler herself. Where are the others? Here’s the real problem: No one ever taught them how to deal with emotions. No one taught them how to value emotional labor. No one taught them how to honor love without turning it into duty. So here’s my plea to every conscious woman out there: Raise all children – sons and daughters – with the same emotional intelligence. Teach them empathy. Teach them boundaries. Teach them that love without self-respect is not noble. It’s a slow death. — Later today, I got into an argument with my dad. I asked a simple question about the shelf – what will happen when the new fridge arrives on Tuesday? He snapped. Said I was shifting too much furniture. That I’m disturbing the Feng Shui. Really? I’ve spent months trying to make his apartment feel like a real home. Not just a temporary box he lives in while avoiding my mom. And now this? What I wanted was simple: a “thank you.” Some validation. Some “I see what you did.” But instead, I got criticism. And it hit me. Yes, I did it for him. But also… I did it for me. For the version of me that still longs to be seen by her father. Not because I’m weak. Because I’m human. My therapist was right. I have a life to live. And I don’t need to carry the emotional debt of my entire family. They had their turn. Now it’s mine. Thank you, Universe, for the reminder. Love always, Kelly ❤️