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I am 35, a regional director at a foreign company. The job is stable and well paid so I was able to buy a home in HCMC, a car and other assets at a relatively young age. To my mother, however, these achievements were never something to be proud of or worth mentioning. She has taught me to be modest to an extreme degree.

When I was a child, she often compared me with top students and criticized me, even though my academic results were better than many of them. When I achieved good grades, she never congratulated me. From then on, I studied out of duty rather than ambition. I remained a good student but stopped caring about rankings. In class, I was withdrawn and declined any position my teachers proposed.

At 27, I asked for permission to move after buying my first modest apartment. My mother scolded me, calling me unfilial for not using the money to renovate the family house so we could live together as a multigenerational household with my siblings.

She later visited my new apartment only to criticize it, urging me to sell it quickly or face regret. She told relatives on both sides of the family that I was living with my wife’s family. I learned this by chance at a relative’s wedding, when an uncle asked why I had moved in with my in-laws. I chose not to explain, fearing my mother would be accused of lying.

At 29, I bought a car so my wife and child could travel more safely. I chose an affordable model yet my mother scolded me, saying I was spoiling my family. That Lunar New Year, I insisted on driving the car instead of riding a motorbike to visit relatives. My mother told everyone I worked as a driver and that the car belonged to the company. From then on, I stopped sharing about my personal life with her. I later upgraded to a higher-end apartment, bought land and saved gold, all without her knowing.

On one occasion when it was just the two of us, I spoke asked why she was never proud of me and why she downplayed all my achievements to such an extreme.

“People die because of what they say. Don’t boast. I’m helping you,” she said.

In some way, I know she meant well but she does not realize how deeply her actions hurt me and undermine my confidence. I now live an introverted life, barely keeping in touch with my extended family, focusing only on work and making money that I rarely spend. From clothes and furniture to housing and cars, I always choose the most basic options, prioritizing my wife and child. Although I have accumulated a fair amount of assets, I feel empty, like a machine that only earns money. If she had offered even a little encouragement, such as saying I was “average” or “doing fine,” my life could have been different.

I have never liked showing off but she made me feel small and inadequate. I worked hard to build assets partly so she could feel proud and so she and my small family could live comfortably. Perhaps even in old age, I will still be unable to find a sense of purpose or meaning in life.