I don’t talk to my dad after he disown me cause he can’t afford to take care of me.

It’s interesting that you say it’s throws and irritates you every time you talk to this father, and he’s not even your father. I suspect it’s much worse when they’re related by blood. I’m a big believer in communication as well, but mine always comes in the form of words, because I’m a terrible reader of body language. A relationship, no matter what kind, is based on communication, and I agree that it’s frustrating when the other person doesn’t offer anything back, because it feels like you’re doing all the work.

Perhaps I should prod my father more, the way you prodded your friends, and ask him questions that can’t be answered with one word. I’m pretty sure that he’ll give me good answers; he’s a smart man. The thing I’m afraid of is that he won’t ask me the same things, because he never has in the past, and it’ll simply confirm how one-sided our relationship is.

I got to slowly now him. My friend was fighting leukemia, and for the last 3 or so months when it was clear he was losing, I saw a lot more of him. We spent time working on the funeral presentation and some of the details, and I displaced the feeling of unease because we had a common goal. We later drove my friend’s convertible from New England to Chicago together, which was a rather odd experience.

Since then we’ve spoken a few times, and it’s the same pattern of speech. It throws me, and irritates me, that I can’t read him because he offers back so little. What’s different now is that I know he loved his little brother, one of the best people I’ve ever known, and that puts a human face on his lack of expression. We don’t naturally get along because we have completely different priorities in communicating, and communication is very important to me.

One trick I did learn was to ask him hard questions involving self-reflection and empathy. “What do you think of this…”

I have no problem talking about stuff like that, but he does. He tries, though, to answer. Or he says he doesn’t think it’s important, and that’s OK with me because it’s his opinion. I think it would be different, though, if I thought he was bullshitting me.

I’m guessing you meant he risks another “rejection” instead of “dejection”. I hadn’t actually rejected him, formally or otherwise. He wasn’t risking anything. Besides, even if he was risking such a thing, I’d say that as a parent I would expect nothing less from him.

The reason why I get let down from his inability to read me, is because I’ve broken the cycle of culture stubbornness. And if I was able to, he should have been able to as well. Do you think that, if you were a parent and you moved to another country, you’d have a hard time adapting to another culture, and raise your kids as you were raised? Ask yourself this first.

@Sophia — Making your kids emotionally happy and sound wasn’t a priority at all with my parents. It does completely come across as the opposite of love, to me, at least. And you’re right about the fact that it’s not only cultures, but generations, that have this miscommunication.

@xibee — Actually, my dad has always been one to try these youth-catching things. For years, he’s dyed his hair black. He even got cosmetic surgery once to remove the liver spots from his face.

I wish it was true that somewhere in his subconscious, he wanted to connect with me. But I really doubt it. As Sophia said, his only concern is that I’m well fed, and out of trouble (the education part isn’t an issue anymore).

Even if I stay distant, showing kindness without expecting reciprocation hurts me more than it helps me, because I think of what I don’t have, and grow sad.

Whether it’s good for you to respond or not is questionable, because with communication skills like his, he’ll still respond the way he always has, probably not because he wants to, but simply knows nothing else.

My thinking would be to give him a kindness he might not quite reciprocate, and go — but don’t expect anything in return, and don’t critique him for it afterward. If anything good happens, fine; if not, you didn’t invest an emotional fortune.

It’s hard dealing with people from another generation and culture, even if they mean well, it could come across as the opposite.

“I tell him things that are important to me, but he never cares, and that’s what hurt me the most.”

Could this preconception be ruining any chance to another way of interacting with your dad? Because whatever he does, this idea is first and foremost on your mind? Is it blinding you?

If you read just his actions and not his words he did this:

Email you to warn you about contacting you… knowing that you probably don’t want to hear from him. He’s asking politely and bracing to be hurt.

He calls you, without hearing an email reply, putting his ego on the line. You speak to him in English when you always used to speak to him in Cantonese.

He calls you again, risking another dejection.

I mean, how can a dad, who’s so used to the Cantonese culture change fast enough to ask you the right questions? How can he care about you and read your mind when you are from completely different childhood backgrounds?

These are the same questions I am asking myself.

I know that in my case, my mom is pretty much incapable of showing caring or tenderness and I just assume it’s a generational thing. Her parents sent her to boarding school and so she never learnt it from them.