My childhood in Burma was… okay, I guess. Not great, not completely terrible either. But now that I’m a parent myself, I look back and realize a lot of things that just weren’t there—conversations, attention, and emotional involvement.
My parents were basically negligent. At the time, I didn’t really understand it, but now I see it so clearly. They didn’t really care about my education. And when I say they didn’t care, I mean they literally didn’t care. I was failing in school, especially in middle school, and nobody was really involved or paying attention.
There was a point where my aunt had to step in and actually take me by the hand to tuition services because of how badly I was doing in school. My parents were just not present in that part of my life at all.
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The People Who Stepped In
Most of the structure in my life came from my aunties.
One of them was a teacher, very strict, and she tried to keep us in line. She taught us, checked on us, and made sure we were doing what we were supposed to do. But she was also very harsh. I used to get punished a lot—sometimes physically—because of mistakes or behavior. Even when I tried to explain myself, it didn’t really matter. There wasn’t much space for being heard.
Another auntie was the one who actually stepped in when I was failing in school. She’s the one who took me seriously when no one else did.
Even though they weren’t always physically present every day (because they traveled in and out of the country at times), they were still the most stable part of my childhood. When they were around, they took care of us. When they weren’t, they still supported us in their own way.
Growing Up in a Crowded, Complicated Home
There were always people at our house. we were living in a very small apartment—so small that there were sometimes over 10 people in one space. It was crowded, chaotic, and honestly just normal to me at the time.
I grew up in a Chinese-Burmese family, but I always felt more connected to Burmese culture because that’s what I drawn to. I actually grew up feeling some shame around being Chinese, partly because of how people treated or talked about Chinese people around me. As a kid, that stuck with me more than I realized.
My Parents and Family Dynamics
My mom and dad had a very complicated relationship. My dad had been married before, and my mom was his second wife. My dad’s first wife passed away after childbirth, which shaped a lot of the family history.
My mom’s side is also very complicated. She didn’t grow up with stability either—her mother committed suiside when she was young, and there were a lot of family struggles and emotional instability in her background.
Looking back now, I can see my mom may have had her own mental health struggles. At the time, we didn’t talk about things like ADHD, autism, or mental illness. People just said someone was “crazy” or “weird.” Now I think there may have been more going on than anyone understood back then.
Violence and Discipline in My Childhood
In my culture and environment at that time, physical discipline was normal. In school and at home, punishment was often physical. Teachers would punish students, and parents also believed hitting was part of raising children.
I also got physically punished at home, mostly for behavior or attitude. Looking back, I was a difficult kid in many ways, and I can understand why things happened the way they did—but at the time, it shaped a lot of fear and confusion in me.
There was also a lot of emotional intensity in the home. Arguments, tension, and moments that stuck in my memory even now.
My Siblings and Violence Around Me
My brother also had anger issues, and there were times I got physically disciplined by him too. At that time, I didn’t understand it. As I got older, I started reflecting on my own behavior as well, and I can see I wasn’t always easy to deal with either.
There was a lot of conflict in general among siblings, cousins, and the adults around us.
The Environment Around Us
The environment I grew up in wasn’t very stable. Some people around us struggled with addiction or alcohol issues. There was also crime in the extended family, and my half-brother even spent time in jail due to drug-related issues. Those years when he was gone were actually some of the calmest years in my childhood.
As a girl growing up, I also had fear. Fear of unsafe situations, fear of certain people, and fear of not being protected.
There was one incident where I was sexually harassed by an older man in the community. It wasn’t rape, but it was enough to leave a lasting feeling of discomfort and violation. At the time, I didn’t even have the language to explain what it was. I just knew it felt wrong.
The Good Memories Too
Even with everything, it wasn’t all bad.
I do remember small moments with my dad—like him clipping my nails or carrying me up the stairs late at night after tea shop visits. Those are small memories, but they stayed with me.
My mom made me some delicious fresh lunch for school in the morning, washing my clothes and do things around the house for her family.
There were also moments of play with neighborhood kids, laughter, and normal childhood things mixed into everything else.
Final Reflection
Looking back now, I wouldn’t say my childhood was completely bad, but it wasn’t stable either. It was a mix of neglect, chaos, discipline, survival, and small moments of care in between.
As I’ve become an adult and now a parent myself, I understand things differently. I can see the patterns, the struggles, and the limitations of the people who raised me.
It wasn’t perfect. It wasn’t safe all the time. But it shaped who I am today.
And I’m still here.
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