Should I Block My Parents on Social Media?

01

I grew up in a rural area of Changsha and started boarding at school in high school. Though I’d go home every week, the trips home got less frequent from high school to college.

After graduating from college, I left home for work, only going back once or twice a year. After getting married, it became about once a year.

Since I was young, I’ve been a mild rebel. I wouldn’t clash with my parents head-on or resist directly, but I’m pretty stubborn. Often, once I’ve decided on something, I’ll just go down that path.

This gradually became how I interacted with my parents: I wouldn’t confront them aggressively, but with important decisions, I often wouldn’t discuss them. For many things, I’m more comfortable deciding myself and bearing the consequences.

02

Parents of their generation, especially rural parents, always worry a lot about their children working far from home. My mom, for example, carries a deep worry for her children. This isn’t negative, it’s out of love.

Most kids seem to have learned to “report the good, not the bad” to their parents. They choose to shoulder their problems, challenges, and grievances alone, without sharing with their parents.

This does have the intent to protect the parents. It’s not that we don’t want to share, but sometimes we wonder if sharing will only make them worry more.

To be blunt, even if we share, we don’t necessarily get much support. Whether it’s intangible help or emotional encouragement, it’s quite limited. Especially the latter, many Chinese parents don’t really know how to comfort or encourage their children.

After graduating in 2005, I worked in Guangzhou for half a year. During that time, I earned very little. When I went home for the New Year after working half a year, I had almost no savings. I bought my parents thermal underwear sets. When they received the gifts, I saw more worry than joy in their eyes.

03

In July or August of 2006, I first entered a church. Later, I read in the Bible, “That is why a man leaves his father and mother and is united to his wife.” This “leave one’s parents” isn’t just physical, it’s also emotional. My understanding is that after becoming an adult, one needs to truly separate from their parents and establish their own family, responsibilities, and boundaries. I wasn’t married then, but I instinctively understood and agreed with this teaching.

At some point, I stopped transferring my salary monthly to my parents and stopped telling them how much I earned. Be it a raise or a pay cut, even switching companies, I wouldn’t tell them anymore. Every time my mom asked about my income, I’d just give a vague, evasive answer.

Slowly, my parents got used to this “uninformed” state and this method of communication and interaction.

04

I got married in 2009 and had my first child the next year, then the second and third followed. In practicing the teaching “leave one’s parents and be united to one’s wife,” I found it avoided many potential conflicts with parents in traditional family setups. For instance, differences in child-rearing philosophies. (Many clash with parents over how much clothing to put on kids.)

Of course, there’s our cost.

We raised our three kids by ourselves. Both sets of parents only helped for about a month after each child was born. Financially, we’re nearly entirely independent, and haven’t taken money from my parents. Of course, I didn’t expect that from them. For parents from the countryside, raising us to adulthood and getting me through college is already remarkable.

I can describe this state with two phrases: living in peace and mutual respect.

But it comes with downsides—there aren’t any deep exchanges between my parents and me. Whether living briefly with them or chatting via calls or video from different cities or countries, often it’s just “Have you eaten? What did you eat?” before it runs out of topics, resolved only by bringing in the kids to lighten the mood.

Some might not care, and some believe that ending with mutual disregard is how things go between kids and parents. But I always feel that without deep exchanges and sharing, there’s always a sense of regret.

05

One big reason I write social media posts is to share my life with my family—especially my parents. I want them to know what my real life is like, what’s happening, how I feel, and my thoughts, particularly on eternal topics.

When I first arrived in the U.S., my parents worried a lot about my safety. I remember when I first got COVID, I specifically wrote an article sharing my feelings and experiences with them. Seeing these shares calmed them down, showing them life in America isn’t as scary as they’d heard.

I think such sharing indirectly provides a channel for communicating with my parents, and it’s a pretty good way. But recently, when I decided to share about starting my own business and the thoughts and records related to it, I hesitated: Should I block my parents on social media and my public account?

If I write about it, my parents—especially my mom—would certainly worry a lot.

For a middle-aged person to leave a stable environment and go solo definitely involves huge risks and challenges. For a 43-year-old man, raising three kids in America’s high-cost environment, even more so. I think any parent would fear for their child.

06

In the end, I chose not to block them.

Though I know they’ll be mentally concerned seeing my shares. Especially my mom, who loses sleep if she has something on her mind.

I chose a bolder, riskier path: letting them see my actual situation instead of living with a superficial “reporting only the good” relationship. Over these years with my parents, I’ve felt they really do want to know me better, more authentically.

Sure enough, after I shared that article on my company’s account, some subtle changes in our video call atmosphere happened.

They knew my situation and decisions but didn’t directly ask me. Instead, they questioned my wife about my finances. Of course, my trusty partner knew how to respond.

07

This shows not blocking won’t instantly bring deep, honest communication. Parents will still worry and use their accustomed ways to approach.

But for me, it’s a small change. At least they’re seeing more than a filtered, always-problem-free version of me.

I guess that’s why I chose not to block. Real relationships aren’t necessarily easier—they bring worries, new awkwardness, and can get clumsy. But if I still hope for more than “Did you eat?” with my parents, I might need to take such a risk: let them see the real me, and teach myself to handle their worries.