How One Word Changed Everything: A Reflection on Parenting, Words, and Healing

When my daughter was young, she loved to eat. She had such a healthy appetite and pure joy for life. But as a parent, I worried. What if she became overweight? What if others judged her? These fears, rooted in my upbringing and cultural mindset, led me to make a mistake I’ll never forget.

One day, I called her “fat.”

It was a casual comment in Chinese, and I thought it would motivate or protect
her. I thought it was harmless. But it wasn’t harmless to her. That one word planted a seed of insecurity in her heart, a seed that grew into a shadow over her self-confidence and self-worth. It took her 25 years to heal.

Twenty-five years of questioning her value. Twenty-five years of undoing the belief that she wasn’t enough. As her mother, knowing I contributed to this pain has been one of the hardest truths to face. I said it. I cared because I thought I was helping. But my words didn’t help - they hurt.

This experience taught me a painful but powerful lesson: words are never “just words.”

In our culture, we often express love through critique. We think it’s our job to point out what needs improvement and to guide with harsh words. But sometimes, this well-meaning “care” creates wounds that take years to heal.

I’m sharing this because I’ve seen how these patterns, passed down through generations, affect many of us. As Asian parents, we carry the weight of our cultural values and expectations, but we also have the power to break cycles of pain.

If I could go back, here’s what I would do differently:

• Speak to the heart, not the fear. Instead of focusing on my worries, I could have spoken about what made her shine - her joy, curiosity, and incredible spirit.
• Choose healing over harm. Words like “fat,” “lazy,” or “not enough” can linger in ways we don’t intend. Let’s use words that build our children up, not tear them down.
• Apologize and repair. Healing starts when we acknowledge the harm and take steps to rebuild trust and confidence.

To my daughter: I am so sorry for the moments I let my fears speak louder than my love. I see the strong, confident woman you’ve become - not because of me, but despite my mistakes. Your grace and resilience inspire me every day. I will never stop learning from you, and I will never stop loving you.

To anyone hurt by words, whether from a parent, a loved one, or yourself, you are not those words. You are so much more. Healing is possible, even if it takes time. This is why I do the work I do today - because I believe we can stop the cycle of pain. We can create a new legacy where love and understanding replace judgment and critique.

My vision is to help families heal from the unseen wounds passed down through generations of our culture and to help the next generation grow up with compassion and confidence.

If this resonates with you, I’d love to hear your thoughts.

Have you experienced something similar?

How are you healing, or how have you started changing these patterns in your family?

Let’s grow together.