Recently, I started to read Good Inside by Dr. Becky Kennedy. I found it a bit funny to start a book about parenting, as I’m a single new grad who is nowhere close to being in a position to raise children. But as Dr. Kennedy puts it early on, “this is a relationship book, and the ideas are universal.” So before I started reading, I figured the core ideas would be applicable to me and this has allowed me to reflect on the relationship(s) that has shaped me the most: the one with my parents.

Gratitude

A bulk of my childhood was centred around hockey. I was a geek about hockey sticks the same way I geek out about AI and tech today. I’d keep up with new releases, compare flex ratings, spend so much time watching hockey stick reviews on YouTube, and I got genuine excitement from seeing what sticks my teammates would have so we can compare and try each others out.

Last week, I decided to go check out Sport Chek after I was finished grocery shopping for old times sake. So naturally, I gravitated toward the hockey section. I picked up a random Bauer stick and checked the price tag: $500.

And a stick isn’t even close to the full picture. Players need shoulder pads, pants, shin guards, a helmet, skates, pucks to practice at home, a net in the driveway, and countless hours of ice time to improve their craft. Just starting my career, I’m only now beginning to understand how much my parents sacrificed for me to even play this sport, both from a time and monetary perspective.

After a full day of work, my mom and dad would be exhausted. But instead of settling into their own routines and doing what they wanted to do, they had to drive me to hockey practice, or oftentimes to other cities for games. At a competitive level, hockey was a 3-4 times a week commitment between practices and games. As a kid playing hockey, I never gave a second thought into how much time my parents put towards giving me these opportunities. I simply thought the act of driving and then watching me play was an easy thing to do. In an effort to help me improve at my skills, my dad would book training sessions with me — oftentimes driving hours away for these. He’d bring me to public skates so I can practice skating. He even built me an indoor synthetic ice rink in our basement so I can keep practicing at home and shoot pucks. Despite not knowing a single thing about hockey, my dad gave me these opportunities and encouraged me to do my best without even asking anything from me.

Now that I have my own job, I’m so grateful I get to choose what I do after work. I can decide when to hang out with friends, go to tech meetup events, play soccer, do a cooking class, or take a spin class. That freedom to shape my own evenings is something I currently take for granted.

My parents would rarely have my luxury during my childhood. Hockey wasn’t the only thing. I also played soccer in the summer, and also had piano lessons each week. These commitments over 10+ years really adds up and I can’t imagine having to do the same in my current state.

Here’s what really puts it into perspective for me: I often complain about not sleeping well when I come home later from cooking class, hangouts, or dinners. My sleep quality takes a huge hit if I’m not able to wind down properly. But my parents endured this for years and never complained.

I’m just so grateful I was able to participate and learn about so many different worlds. Hockey and soccer gave me a lifelong way to connect with others. I do have a love/hate relationship with piano, but it gave me an appreciation for performance and art that I carry with me today (okay, my mom did force me into that one). And beyond the structured activities, they gave me the freedom to read, explore ideas, be technologically native, and have the room to disagree with them. They never forced me into a certain path. They just wanted me to be happy and gain new perspectives on life by exposing me to different environments.

Communication

Gratitude is one thing, but relationships are ongoing and imperfect. This is one area I’m still actively working on improving.

In the book, Dr. Kennedy introduces the idea that Two Things Can Be True. My parents aren’t perfect — there are cultural differences in how we communicate, things we see differently. But I know they are doing their best, and they deserve the benefit of my doubt. What stood out to me about this concept is how it reframes the way we navigate disagreements. A few quotes stood out to me:

“This idea of multiplicity — the ability to accept multiple realities at once — is critical to healthy relationships.”

“Building strong connections relies on the assumption that no one is right in the absolute, because understanding, not convincing, is what makes people feel secure in a relationship.”

“Convincing is an attempt to be ‘right’ and, as a result, make the other person ‘wrong.’ It rests on the assumption that there is only one correct viewpoint.”

“And here’s the unfortunate consequence of being right: the other person feels unseen and unheard, at which point most people become infuriated and combative, because it feels as if the other person does not accept your realness or worth. Feeling unseen and unheard makes connection impossible.”

I have many disagreements with my parents. We argue all the time about health, politics, values, and how we view the world. But these differences should exist. We grew up in different eras, encountered different scenarios in our childhoods, and formed our own unique worldviews as a result. We all have our own unique biases.

This reminds me of something Po-Shen Loh said in a talk I referenced in my weekly update on fulfillment: there are ~8 billion people on Earth, and no two lives are the same. We’ve all seen and experienced different things, which means we should all have our own unique ideas and philosophies. He argued that in a world where AI and the internet make it so easy to deceive people, the ability to think for ourselves is what protects us. There should be ~8 billion unique perspectives.

Going back to my relationship with my parents (and also others), I’ve been trying to internalize this idea. Dr. Kennedy encourages us to think: “What is my most generous interpretation of what just happened?” Because deep down, my everyone is Good Inside. They aren’t trying to frustrate me — they’re coming from their own experience, their own context. Conflicting ideas can exist at the same time, and recognizing that doesn’t mean giving up your own perspective. It means making room for theirs. Two things can be true.

I’m guilty of lashing out during disagreements more times than I’d like to admit. But this connects back to something I wrote about in my year in review: Be Curious, Not Judgemental. Having two ears and one mouth means actively listening and trying to understand where someone is coming from before reacting.

Conclusion

Gratitude and communication are two sides of the same coin. It’s easy to feel grateful for what our parents have done for us, but the harder and more important work is showing up in the day-to-day. Listening, being patient, and choosing understanding over being right. I’m still learning how to do both well.

To my parents: thank you for every early morning, every late-night drive, every dollar spent on equipment I outgrew in a year, and every argument you handled with more patience than I deserved.

I hope to carry these lessons forward, especially when I have a family of my own someday in the future.