I've been living with my mom for the last six months.
I'm a thirty-one-year-old Asian-American woman, and I'm on food stamps and state sponsored health insurance.
I feel shame about it. I feel suffocated when I hold back information when someone asks where I'm staying, or when I refrain from telling my boyfriend that my Medi-Cal doctor is in South Central. Being on food stamps makes me wonder if I've been lazy. Not having “made it" in three years in as an entrepreneur makes me feel I'm a loser who didn't have the business sense or ability to finish valuable projects.
Benjamin Franklin defined a person being "good" as being industrious, hardworking, and a positive contributor to society.
Had I been a bad person?
According to me, my brother was a bad person when he was living with my mom. At the time, I was living in my apartment in Culver City. We were in the kitchen. He must have made me mad. Less than two feet from his face, I screamed, “Look at you. You’re thirty years old, doing nothing, living at Umma’s place. Look at yourself.”
Was it possible he had done the right things, and yet, was living in my mom's place? I never asked what his story was. I'm in his shoes now, and looking at my current circumstance, it seems I've failed, but when I look at the actions independently, I don't see how I should have acted differently. I quit my engineering job, I learned how to program at the age of thirty, I'm trying to sell the one product I love (makeup), and I'm saving money by living at home. I believe that I'm doing things that will get me to success. It's not guaranteed, it might even be unlikely, but the possibility is there. The nuance of my journey substantiates where I'm at.
Sadly, my brother was around me at a time when I hadn't been stretched enough to where I could put myself in his shoes. Nor was I a kind, or wise, enough person to be silent until I had learned those lessons.
We haven't been in contact for years. I'm worried that kitchen scene isolated him. Shame makes people deal with hard things alone. I haven't told most of my friends I'm on food stamps. Maybe the world gave me this period of shame so that I could learn empathy.
Writing this piece feels like taking a shit after a long period of constipation. Yes—I'm a low income entrepreneur living with her mom, and fuck you! (not really). I'll get out of it, and I'll be better for it.
I believe you also know shame. That's why I made this public.
I'm a 31-year-old woman on her laptop in California. I feel shame about a few big things in my life right now. I'm not ashamed about that.
Written by Sandra Rhee. Originally published at sandrarhee.com/writing/on-living-with-your-mom.