I’m curious how people further along in life have navigated this with parents who love them deeply but remain very anxious about their life, career, money, etc.

I’m 35, and my mother worries about me constantly. I can tell her I’m happy, calm, and have a lot of self-belief and trust in myself, but that I genuinely want to take life one day at a time rather than take everything so seriously. She has a hard time accepting that as a legitimate way to live.

She comes from a fairly upper-class, status-oriented environment where “doing well” means stable career, good money, marriage, kids, house, etc. She’ll sometimes compare me to friends’ children or relatives who seem to have everything figured out.

The thing is, I spent a lot of my younger life trying to live according to expectations, and I suffered quite a bit doing so. I’m in a very different place now. I’m less interested in having a perfect five-year plan and more interested in an examined life: understanding my own mind, being present, and figuring out what actually makes life meaningful to me.

My mother knows I’ve struggled in essentially every corporate job I’ve had. In the past, I’d sometimes tell little white lies about my career simply because I cared about her worry and wanted to make her feel better. I don’t want to do that anymore.

At the same time, I really don’t want her to interpret my different path as a judgment of the path she helped lead me toward. As if I’m saying she raised me incorrectly or that the life she encouraged me to pursue wasn’t impressive or successful enough. That isn’t how I feel at all. I love and appreciate what my parents gave me. I just seem to be discovering that what gives me a sense of meaning and peace is somewhat different from what they were taught to value.

My parents are retired, and I genuinely want them to enjoy their lives without constantly worrying about me. But I’m realizing that when my mother needs to know I’m on a conventional trajectory, that need is partly about her. If she knows I have a stable job and clear plan, she can relax. Underneath that, it can sometimes feel like she doesn’t trust me to navigate my own life.

I understand the worry comes from love, but I don’t want to make her expectations my responsibility.

I’m also wondering whether there’s a subtle way to share some of what has helped me: ideas around the mind, worry, presence, and letting go, without trying to convince her of a spiritual philosophy she didn’t ask for.

For those of you who have dealt with something similar, looking back, how might you have handled your parents’ worry and expectations differently? What actually helped you stop internalizing their anxiety while still making them feel loved and appreciated?

And yes, this is a Jewish mother. :)

I’m curious how people further along in life have navigated this with parents who love them deeply but remain very anxious about their life, career, money, etc.

I’m 35, and my mother worries about me constantly. I can tell her I’m happy, calm, and have a lot of self-belief and trust in myself, but that I genuinely want to take life one day at a time rather than take everything so seriously. She has a hard time accepting that as a legitimate way to live.

She comes from a fairly upper-class, status-oriented environment where “doing well” means stable career, good money, marriage, kids, house, etc. She’ll sometimes compare me to friends’ children or relatives who seem to have everything figured out.

The thing is, I spent a lot of my younger life trying to live according to expectations, and I suffered quite a bit doing so. I’m in a very different place now. I’m less interested in having a perfect five-year plan and more interested in an examined life: understanding my own mind, being present, and figuring out what actually makes life meaningful to me.

My mother knows I’ve struggled in essentially every corporate job I’ve had. In the past, I’d sometimes tell little white lies about my career simply because I cared about her worry and wanted to make her feel better. I don’t want to do that anymore.

At the same time, I really don’t want her to interpret my different path as a judgment of the path she helped lead me toward. As if I’m saying she raised me incorrectly or that the life she encouraged me to pursue wasn’t impressive or successful enough. That isn’t how I feel at all. I love and appreciate what my parents gave me. I just seem to be discovering that what gives me a sense of meaning and peace is somewhat different from what they were taught to value.

My parents are retired, and I genuinely want them to enjoy their lives without constantly worrying about me. But I’m realizing that when my mother needs to know I’m on a conventional trajectory, that need is partly about her. If she knows I have a stable job and clear plan, she can relax. Underneath that, it can sometimes feel like she doesn’t trust me to navigate my own life.

I understand the worry comes from love, but I don’t want to make her expectations my responsibility.

I’m also wondering whether there’s a subtle way to share some of what has helped me: ideas around the mind, worry, presence, and letting go, without trying to convince her of a spiritual philosophy she didn’t ask for.

For those of you who have dealt with something similar, looking back, how might you have handled your parents’ worry and expectations differently? What actually helped you stop internalizing their anxiety while still making them feel loved and appreciated?

And yes, this is a Jewish mother. :)

I’m curious how people have navigated this with parents who love them deeply but are very anxious about their children’s life, career, money, etc.

My mother is somewhat narcissistic and very prone to worrying about me. I can tell her that I’m happy, calm, and have a tremendous amount of self-belief and trust in myself, but that I genuinely want to take life one day at a time and not take everything so seriously. She has a hard time accepting that as a legitimate way to live.

She comes from a fairly upper-class, status-oriented environment where the implicit definition of “doing well” is pretty conventional: stable career, good money, marriage, kids, house, etc. She’ll sometimes compare me to friends’ children or my cousins who seem to have their lives completely figured out.

The difficult part is that I don’t necessarily believe that having those things tells you whether someone is actually living a meaningful or happy life. They may be perfectly happy, of course. But they could also be struggling privately, feeling trapped, or simply following a path because it’s what was expected of them. From the outside, we really have no idea.

And I know this because I spent a long time doing exactly what I thought I was supposed to do.

I’m 35 now, and my mom knows that I have struggled with depression in essentially every corporate job I’ve had. In the past, I would sometimes tell little white lies about what I was doing with my career or life because I genuinely cared about her worry and wanted to make her feel better.

But I’m in a very different place now. I have much more trust in myself and much less desire to construct a perfect five-year plan simply to demonstrate that I’m okay. I’m happier taking things one day at a time, following what feels meaningful, and trusting that I can figure things out as life unfolds.

The irony is that I actually want the opposite of what she seems to think I want.

My parents are both retired, and I genuinely want them to enjoy the rest of their lives. I want them to worry less. I want them to feel peaceful and secure. But their worrying has become so habitual that I’m starting to realize I can’t make their peace dependent on me having the “right” career or life trajectory.

I think there’s an important distinction here: when my mother needs to know that I’m on a conventional path, that need is probably partly about her own nervous system. If she knows I have a stable job, a clear plan, and all the conventional markers of success, she can relax.

But there is also something painful underneath it for me: it can feel like a lack of trust in my ability to navigate my own life.

I don’t want to resent her for that. I understand that the worry comes from love. But I also don’t want to unconsciously make her expectations my responsibility.

Maybe part of the answer is simply learning to let her experience some uncertainty.

I can reassure her. I can listen. I can share what I’m actually doing and how I’m actually feeling. I can gently expose her to a different definition of what a good life can look like.

But ultimately, I can't live my life in a way that continually proves to her that she doesn't need to worry.

I’m also interested in whether there’s a way to gradually introduce some of the ideas that have helped me without trying to “convert” them to some spiritual philosophy they never asked for.

My dad is actually much more open-minded about this stuff and enjoys exploring these questions. I’ve thought about introducing them to someone like Tara Brach, or some of the less mystical talks from Ram Dass. Interestingly, my mom once found a lot of comfort in Joel Osteen’s messages, even though she wasn’t really approaching them from a religious standpoint. I think what resonated with her was the idea that you don't have to constantly worry about life and that there is some deeper way of relating to uncertainty.

Ultimately, I'd love for them to understand a little more about how the mind and body generate worry and that sometimes you don't have to solve every problem intellectually. You can actually turn inward, notice what is happening, and allow some of it to settle.

But I also recognize that I can't force that realization on them.

So for those of you who have gone through something similar:

How have you helped anxious parents gradually trust your path without becoming defensive or preaching at them?

And how have you maintained your own trust when their anxiety subtly starts making you question whether you're doing enough with your life?

And yes, this is a Jewish mother. 😂

I’m curious how people have navigated this with parents who love them deeply but are very anxious about their life, career, money, etc.

My mother is somewhat narcissistic and very prone to worrying about me. I can tell her that I’m happy, calm, and have an immense amount of self-belief and trust in myself, but that I genuinely want to take life one day at a time and not take everything so seriously. She seems to have a very hard time accepting that as a legitimate way to live.

She comes from a fairly upper-class/status-oriented bubble where the implicit definition of “doing well” is pretty conventional: stable career, good money, marriage, kids, house, etc. She’ll sometimes compare me to friends’ children or my cousins who seem to have their lives completely figured out.

The difficult part is that I don’t necessarily believe those people are living more meaningful lives than I am. They may be perfectly happy, but they may also be struggling privately, feeling trapped, or simply following a path because it’s what was expected of them. From the outside, you really have no idea.

What makes this especially frustrating is that I actually suffered quite a lot in the past trying to live according to expectations and figure out what I was “supposed” to be doing. I’m in a very different place now. I have much more trust in myself and much less desire to construct some perfect five-year plan just to prove that I’m okay. I'm also 35 and my mom knows that I have quite literally been depressed in every corporate job I've had. In the past I would have just told white lies about what I'm working on career/life wise just to keep her happy, as I genuinely do care about her own worries and own suffering.

But I also don’t want my parents to feel like they’re being left behind. They are both retired and I genuinely want them to enjoy the remaining years of their lives without worry, but it's so habitual.

I’m wondering whether there’s a subtle way to bring them along on this path without trying to convince them of some spiritual philosophy they aren't asking for.

I think part of the challenge is recognizing that when my mother signals that she needs to know I’m on a particular career/life trajectory, that need is largely about her nervous system. If she knows I have a stable job and a conventional plan, she can relax.

But there is also something painful underneath it: the implication that she doesn’t fully trust me to navigate my own life.

I don’t want to resent her for that. I can understand where the worry comes from. She loves me. But I also don't want to unconsciously make her expectations into my responsibility.

Maybe the real practice is to let her have some uncertainty.

I can reassure her. I can listen. I can share what I’m actually doing and how I’m actually feeling. I can gently expose her to a different definition of a good life.

But ultimately, I can't live my life in a way that continually proves to her that she doesn't need to worry.

For those of you who have gone through something similar, how have you brought your parents along without preaching at them or becoming defensive? And how have you maintained trust in your own path when their anxiety subtly starts making you question it?

I will say my dad is much more open minded and wants to explore this world. I'm thinking about introducing them to a teacher like Tara Brach or potentially one of the less mystical talks of someone like Rahm Dass. She was surprisingly comforted by Joel Olsteen's preachings at one point. Ultimately it would be great if they could also understand the mechanisms of the mind and body and how their worries can be let go of by just looking inward.

And yes this is a jewish mother :)

Shoutout to David Whyte’s short poems on understanding the original linguistic meaning and richness of every day words. If we are going to take certain words seriously to define our lives then it’s vital that they are well understood.

After 18 months of skipping that content in the app, I went back and listened and was not only so incredibly moved, but also struck by how important broadening our perspective on these words is.

I’m realizing how our connection to the content in the app blossoms over time and find my self re listening to everything every couple of months. What might have meant nothing to you in the past, could strike a different cord on next listen. A testament about why this path is so rewarding, this experiential acknowledgment of growth that can be hidden for weeks or months at a time.

So the words we take seriously to define our lives, change meaning over time in relation to our mental growth and our values and therefore should be re-examined every so often.