I’ve been thinking a lot about my family and my own dreams lately. I’m 20 now, and I’ve realized I’ve spent most of my life trying to balance my parents’ expectations with my own aspirations.

My parents are very traditional. They value education above almost everything, and they believe in following a strict path. My older brother and sister both got to study abroad—they followed the “dream” my parents set for them. And me? I’ve always wanted to go to Japan and pursue my dream of being a chef. I told them about it since I was in grade 6. I thought they would prepare something for me, support me in some way—but nothing happened. I had to find my own path.

Even when I finally found a school in Laos that could teach Japanese and arrange work in Japan, my health got in the way, so I had to drop out. I also struggled with my mental health because of the constant pressure to succeed the way my parents imagined. Every time I try to explain my situation, they either don’t listen or insist I follow the “plan” they think is right.

Growing up, I’ve realized that the real stress in my life doesn’t come from small things like playing games—it comes from the constant pressure and expectations from my family. People say “you play too many games, you’ll go crazy,” but honestly, I think I’d lose my mind more from their pressure than from Minecraft or Discord.

I use games and online communities as my safe space—a place to relax, talk to people my age who understand what I’m going through, and just feel a little free. It’s not about escaping reality; it’s about staying sane in a world that feels very controlling at times.

Sometimes I feel like my emotions about my family are fading, and maybe that’s a kind of survival. I just want to live my own life, follow my dreams, and open my own restaurant. Why is it so hard for my parents to let me make my own choices—even when they see my potential?

Penalty: The constant pressure isn’t just emotional—it’s practical too. My parents expect me to handle tasks at home all the time. Even my partner gets involved in helping my family, but the burden mostly falls on me. My mother says things like “you have to do your duty,” or assumes I’m available whenever needed, while she herself doesn’t step in. Recently, she asked my partner to serve my older brother, while I was exhausted from work. I couldn’t rest. Moments like these make me feel used, and they wear down my mental energy.

Original Mansion: I think about how unbalanced it all is. My family only helps when I’m not home. My father, for example, told me to study late at night—he wants me to push myself even when I’m tired. Coming home never means someone else will lighten my load. It’s always on me. I can see the pattern clearly: love in my family exists, but it’s conditional and mixed with strict expectations. The words “we all help” are just words—they don’t match reality.

I’m sharing this not to blame anyone, but just to put my thoughts out there. Maybe someone reading this will relate—or at least understand that sometimes, love isn’t the same as freedom, and growing up means learning to protect your own mind and dreams.

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