My mother has an addiction to suffering. When I took her to the mall to buy new clothes, she stood in the middle of the store and screamed at me. "You make five thousand a month, and instead of saving it, you just think about shopping!" Then, she turned around and complained to our relatives that her life was so hard she was practically wearing rags. When she got sick and was hospitalized, I told the doctors to use the best medication available to minimize her pain. She accidentally saw the bill. She ran to the attending physician, threw a tantrum on the floor, and accused them of having no ethics. "This is robbery! It's just a minor illness, why are you giving me such expensive drugs? Refund it! Give me my money back!" The doctor looked at me, embarrassed and helpless. I decided not to enable her anymore. I looked the doctor in the eye. "Doctor, listen to my mother. If she likes suffering, let her suffer. You don't need to use the expensive meds anymore." 1 My mother is a woman who thrives on hardship. There are three kids in our family. My older brother makes $40k a month. My sister-in-law is a full-time author; her income fluctuates, but she usually nets over $10k after taxes. My younger sister works for my brother and pulls in a steady $20k. I’m the "poorest" one, but I have a stable government job with great benefits. Even my dad, after retiring, took a job as a security guard at a bank. He makes about $4,000 a month, and he transfers almost all of it to Mom. My brother and his wife cover the mortgage and all household expenses. On top of that, they give Mom a $6,000 allowance every month. My sister gives $3,000. I give $1,000. Add it all up, and she has over $10,000 in disposable income every single month. Logically, she should be living the high life. She isn't. We live right above a high-end supermarket and a fresh organic grocer. The produce is fresh, quality guaranteed. We beg her to just shop downstairs. She refuses. Every day, she insists on riding a rusted-out bicycle she salvaged from a dump. She rides for an hour to a wholesale market in the next district just to buy vegetables that are literally a few cents cheaper. Then, she rides another hour back. The road to that market is crawling with semi-trucks. We worry about her constantly. We’ve stopped her a thousand times, begging her not to risk her life for a ten-cent discount on cabbage. She gets furious. She screams at us in the living room. "Who am I saving this money for?! You think just because you make a little money now, you're big shots? If something happens later and we need cash, what are you going to do?" What are we going to do? We all have insurance. We all have savings. Besides, if a real catastrophe hits, the fifty cents she saved on bok choy isn't going to save us. We talked until we were blue in the face. She wouldn't listen. She did whatever she wanted. Until one day, on her way back from the market, she rode into a truck's blind spot. She almost got sucked under the wheels. She spent half a month in the hospital and racked up thousands in medical bills. That finally quieted her down. For two months. As soon as she healed, she forgot the pain. Ignoring our pleas, she’d wait until we left for work, tell my sister-in-law (who works from home) that she was just going downstairs, and then sneak off on the bike to the distant market again. We held a family intervention. We asked her what it would take for her to stop. She cried. She said we all despised her. In the end, we just gave up. We let her do what she wanted. Because none of us could out-stubborn her. 2 We couldn't control the grocery shopping. But we thought we could at least fix her wardrobe. She had a significant amount of savings, but she wouldn't spend a dime on herself. The pants she wore were bought fifteen years ago. The fabric was piling so badly it looked like sandpaper. I took her to the mall with good intentions. I wanted her to look decent and feel comfortable. She stood at the entrance of a store, looking inside but refusing to enter. I tried to encourage her. "Mom, Sarah [my sister-in-law] transferred me $10,000 today. She said whatever you pick is on her. Just relax and choose." Instead of being happy, she started lecturing me. "How could you take Sarah's money? Do you know what people will say if I spend her money? Send it back immediately. I can't use it." It was always this performance. Deep down, she was happy Sarah wanted to spend money on her. But she had to decline, and she always did it in a way that made it sound like Sarah was reluctant to give it. Luckily, Sarah wasn't there, or it would have been another fight. "Mom, it's a gift of filial piety. Just take it," I urged. She got angrier and shoved me. "I said no! The clothes I have are fine. Do you think I'm embarrassing you by dressing like this?" I rubbed my temples. "No, Mom. No one thinks that." "Then it's Sarah. Does she think I embarrass her when I pick up my granddaughter from school? Is that why she sent money?" She was getting louder and more ridiculous. The sales assistants were giving us weird looks. I cut her off. "Mom! Sarah doesn't think that! We just see your clothes are old and torn. We want you to have new ones. We aren't poor. We can afford a few shirts!" She huffed and went silent. I took the opportunity to push her inside. I asked the staff to recommend some outfits. Several assistants swarmed her, picking out tasteful, comfortable clothes. I handed them to her to try on. Right in front of the staff, she checked every single price tag. Her face turned black, and she shoved the clothes back at them. Before I could react, she dragged me out of the store. I apologized to the confused staff over my shoulder while asking her, "What's wrong? Why didn't you try them?" She didn't say a word until we were outside. Then she exploded. "Your salary is only five thousand! You don't know how to save! All you think about is buying clothes!" My salary isn't high, true. But I told her the money was from Sarah. It had nothing to do with me. I tried to explain. She wouldn't listen to a word. She just kept rambling. "Do I need you to buy me clothes? My clothes might be old, but they cover my body just fine!" I couldn't move her. In the end, I transferred the money back to Sarah and explained the situation so she wouldn't overthink it. Sarah sent a voice note back: "Mom is really addicted to suffering. She has a life of leisure waiting for her, but she insists on living like an abandoned stray. I don't know if she's afraid people will steal her money or if she wants people to think we're unfilial children." I chuckled bitterly and sent back a helpless emoji. 3 I thought that was the end of it. But as soon as we got home, Mom called our aunt to complain. From the balcony, I heard her wailing. "Sigh, who has a harder life than me? My clothes are practically rags, and I don't have money to replace them." I don't know what my aunt said on the other end. Mom's voice suddenly pitched up. "Enjoy life? What enjoyment? I can't sit still at home. My daughter-in-law does nothing all day. She sits at a computer writing 'novels.' When she gets bored, she goes shopping. So idle... I think I need to find a job. It'll be hard work, but at least I can help the family so my son doesn't have to work so hard." My aunt must have asked what job she found. "I saw some landscapers planting flowers by the road the other day. I asked if they were hiring. They said yes. Three thousand a month. Start at 6:30 AM, two-hour break at noon, off at 6:30 PM." "I think it's good. I can make money and not rot at home." Standing in the living room, my blood began to boil. "Mom!" I shouted. She jumped, quickly hung up the phone, and came back inside. "Why are you yelling?" "Are you seriously going to get a job?" She knew she couldn't hide it. "Yes. I can't sit still. Unlike your sister-in-law, I wasn't born with a silver spoon. I already booked a physical exam at the hospital. If I pass tomorrow, I start work." I almost passed out from anger. "With your health? Planting flowers under the blazing sun? Are you insane? Do you know how hot it gets? If you get heatstroke, who pays for the hospital? The three thousand you earn won't even cover the ambulance ride!" She pouted. "It's not like I'm under the sun all day. Besides, if other people can do it, why can't I?" "Those other people don't have children sending them thousands of dollars a month! Do you know how much we give you? Do you need to do manual labor?" I was on the verge of a breakdown. Seeing my state, she stopped arguing. But she still wanted the job. Then she muttered, "A household shouldn't have two idlers sitting around doing nothing." Sarah, who had just walked in the door, heard every word. Her face dropped instantly. 4 "Mom, what does that mean?" Sarah threw her bag on the sofa. "You think me writing novels full-time is 'idling'? Am I an eyesore to you?" Mom didn't expect Sarah to be home. She rubbed her hands together awkwardly and looked at me. She wanted me to explain for her. It was always like this. She’d say something passive-aggressive, upset Sarah, and then beg me to smooth things over. For the sake of family harmony, I usually did. But today, she went too far. If my mother-in-law said that about me, I’d be furious too. "Don't look at me, Mom," I snapped. "Tell Sarah yourself what you meant." Seeing I wasn't backing her up, Mom stammered. "Sarah... I didn't mean you're lazy. I just think... since you're home anyway, maybe I should go out and work." "You can wake up early, make breakfast, take Zoe [my niece] to school, make dinner, and pick Zoe up." "You'll still have plenty of time to write. It won't interfere." Silence. She added nervously, "If you don't want to buy groceries, I can get up earlier, buy them, drop them off, and then go to work." I glanced at Sarah. Her expression was thunderous. "Why aren't you speaking?" Mom got anxious. "I'm different from you. I can't be idle. I just want to work." "Mom, are you serious?" Sarah finally spoke. Mom thought Sarah was agreeing. She lit up. "Oh, yes! I'm doing this for the family. I've thought it through." Sarah took a deep breath, picked up her bag, and looked Mom in the eye. "Fine. Go find a job. I have no objection. But I'm planning to divorce Jason [my brother]. So, whether you want to suffer or enjoy life has nothing to do with me anymore. And you won't need to make snide comments about me 'idling' at home." Mom froze. She panicked and grabbed my arm. "Talk to her! I didn't mean that! I just feel insecure without an income! She can't divorce your brother!" I didn't know if Sarah was bluffing or serious. I couldn't hold back anymore. "If you didn't mean that, why can't you speak plainly? Why do you have to insinuate that staying home is 'enjoying life'? You say you're idle? Just last week, I heard you complaining to Auntie that your life is so hard, that you have to take Zoe to school and cook and clean, and that your back hurts every night!" I truly didn't understand. What goes on in her head? I thought being blunt would wake her up. Instead, she sneered. "Right. It's all my fault. If I died, you'd all be happier! Your lives would be so much better without me!" She started wiping away tears. "I've sinned! I just didn't want to be useless. I wanted to contribute. Why can't any of you understand me? Why do you all blame me?" Great. Talking to a brick wall. "Fine," I surrendered. "I won't say anything. Do whatever you want." Her eyes sparkled. "So the flower planting job..." Sarah was threatening divorce, and she was still thinking about planting flowers. I sighed, turned around, and went to my room.
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