Tracey Lien

“Ky laughed, felt the tingling warmth that bloomed within her whenever she talked to someone for whom she didn't need to fill in the blanks - someone who understood that the act of complaining about her parents was not an invitation to troubleshoot her problems, because there was no solving the problem of refugee parents; someone who could commiserate without casting judgment; someone who accepted the contradiction of the things that annoyed her most about her family being the same things that signaled to her that they cared.”
― Tracey Lien, All That's Left Unsaid

“Ky didn't allow her mother to have feelings, because to grant her those would mean acknowledging that she was a person who had desires and dreams beyond what Ky saw. It was easier to imagine her as a caricature, as an immigrant Cabramatta parent, whose only desire was for her children to become doctors and lawyers (or ideally both) whose only means of expressing love to them was through cooking their meals, washing their clothes, and criticizing them into being better people. And despite wanting more from her mother, despite wanting the expression of love that came with warmth and acceptance, despite wanting her mother to actually know who she was, Ky had convinced herself that it was beyond her mother's capabilities, that people from the old country simply didn't do things that way. They'd give their life for you, but good luck getting them to see you.”
― Tracey Lien, All That's Left Unsaid