The Unexpected Beginning A Box of Pastries and a Mother’s Tears
Thu Ha arrived for her counseling session carrying a small box of pastries.
As per professional guidelines, I gently declined.
She quickly explained:
“It wasn’t me, doctor. My older boy insisted. He said you might get hungry.”
A sixth-grade boy sensitive, thoughtful, and considerate toward a person he had never met.
It was a moment that made me smile.
But immediately after, his mother said something shocking:
“Sensitive? He’s useless, really!”
Then she began to cry.
This was the moment the truth behind her struggles began to unfold.
When a Child’s Academic Decline Feels Like a Crisis
Thu Ha holds a master’s degree and works at a major hospital in Ho Chi Minh City.
Her husband is an IT engineer. To outsiders, they seem like a stable, educated, high-functioning family.
Her first son, Minh, excelled academically throughout primary school.
But toward the end of grade 5, his performance declined.
By grade 6, his grades were only average.
For Thu Ha, this was devastating:
“He’s introverted and now not even good at school. How will he survive?”
Meanwhile, her second son lively, loud, often scolded by teachers, didn’t worry her at all:
“That boy is street-smart. He’ll be fine anywhere.”
Why such drastic difference in how she viewed her children?
The answer lay in her childhood.
The Hidden Root, A Mother’s Unresolved Childhood Pain
Thu Ha was raised by a single mother after her parents separated.
Her mother was strict, harsh, emotionally cold, a woman hardened by life.
Growing up, Thu Ha constantly heard:
“A quiet, introverted girl like you will be stepped on. No one will love you.”
Whenever she cried, her mother warned:
“Cry again and I’ll send you back to your father.”
This fear of abandonment stayed with her well into adulthood.
On the outside, she became successful.
On the inside, she carried a lifelong belief:
“I’m not good enough. I’m unlovable. I could be left behind.”
So when she looked at Minh quiet, introverted, sensitive she saw herself as a child.
And that terrified her.
She wasn’t rejecting her son.
She was rejecting the wounded parts of herself that she saw in him.
You Cannot Truly Accept Your Child Until You Accept Yourself
I asked her gently:
“Has being introverted ever stopped you from building a career, a family, a stable life?”
She paused, then whispered:
“…No.”
“Then why do you believe it will destroy Minh’s future?”
After a long silence, she replied:
“Because that’s what my mother always told me…”
In that moment, she realized:
Her voice of fear was not hers, it was her mother’s.
She had unknowingly passed that fear onto her child.
A Parent’s Emotional Climate Is the ‘Brine’ Their Children Grow In
I offered her a metaphor:
The Brine Metaphor
Put radish in a jar of brine, it becomes pickles.
Put ginseng in the same jar, it also becomes radish.
The brine is the emotional climate parents create at home.
If a child grows up in an environment of pressure, comparison, criticism, or fear,
they absorb it, even if parents love them deeply.
Tears streamed down Thu Ha’s face.
“You’re right. I’ve been letting my fear soak into my child.”
A Simple Exercise That Changed Everything
I gave her a small daily task:
The “Three Strengths” Exercise
Every day, write down three genuine strengths you see in Minh with no judgment, no comparison, no fear.
Two weeks later, she returned smiling:
“He’s thoughtful, mature, so understanding… I never noticed before.”
She even laughed:
“If he were loud but shallow like Bin, I would be more worried.”
For the first time, she saw Minh as himself, not as a reflection of her childhood fears.
Final Reflection, Parenting Is Also a Journey of Healing
A child does not need perfect parents.
They need parents who are learning to accept themselves.
A mother who knows her own wounds can break the generational patterns.
A mother who heals herself can finally see her child with clarity and gentleness.
Sometimes, what a child needs most is not perfection but a parent who can recognize their own value so they can see the beauty in their child without fear.
