I Work Hard, But I Don’t Know Hard Work 💪

When I came up with that title I thought, Oooh, that’s a good one! I even gave myself a little pat on the back because honestly, if I don’t, who will? 😅 This is the “Glow” part of this blog, after all. 🌟

I’ve watched my parents work themselves to the bones my entire life. With almost zero English, they just figured it out — no Google Translate, no ChatGPT, just grit and trial and error. 💪 It still blows my mind how they built a whole new life from nothing. The older I get, the more I realize how heavy those years must have been for them.

Growing Up with Grit🥟

As a kid, I swore I had it hard because I had to make my own lunch at the age of nine. Other kids went to school with neatly packed Lunch Mates (the holy grail of Canadian childhood! Not Lunchables 🥲) while I was steaming dumplings during my lunch period. To this day, Lunch Mates still make me excited. Let’s be honest though, they’re just a budget charcuterie board for kids. 😂

I grew up in the country my parents sacrificed everything to reach — the land of maple syrup, Tim Hortons, and potholes that could swallow your car whole after extreme winters. 🍁 I didn’t fully understand their sacrifice when I was little, but now, as a working adult, I feel it in my bones. My parents gave up their childhood, family, comfort, and probably their sanity just to give me, my brother and sister a better shot at life and to one day live the Canadian Dream. That hits deep. ❤️

Lessons in "Real" Hard Work 💪

From early on, I learned that if I wanted something, even as simple as lunch, I had to work for it. My parents made sure I understood that “working hard” meant everything: top grades, extra activities, good manners, and even translating their mail. 📬 There I was, twelve years old, Googling terms like “property tax calculator,” pretending I knew what I was talking about before just blurting out random numbers and saying, “You owe this much.” 😂

I didn’t always hit every goal, but oh man, did I hustle. I thought hard work meant doing more of everything. In university, I took on three part-time jobs while juggling classes because I wanted to pay off my OSAP loans. I wore exhaustion like a badge of honor just like my parents. 🏆 Back then, I didn’t realize I was just trying to live up to the level of sacrifice I grew up watching.

Because my parents didn’t just talk about hard work, they embodied it.

My Parents: The Blueprint for Hustle👩‍🍳👨‍🍳

My mom was a star student back in China, ranking at the top of her class and absolutely killing it in math. ✏️ But instead of university, she had to work on a farm feeding pigs — and no, not tossing scraps. She cooked for them. 🐷 To this day, I still ask, “Why were the pigs getting home-cooked meals?!?” Meanwhile, teenage me was crying over my ugly sperm eyebrows (I wish someone told me earlier 😭) and MapleStory lag. Perspective, right? 😂

When we moved to Canada, my parents had one simple mission: find a job, any job. My dad collected shopping carts, my mom washed dishes, and neither of them ever complained. Eventually, she became a chef at a Vietnamese restaurant and my dad worked at Mongolia Grill. And let me tell you, I had access to some elite-level stir-fry growing up. 🍜

At one point, I tried working at the restaurant with my mom. Spoiler: huge mistake. One shift carrying XL-sized pho bowls and I was ready to retire. Those bowls should come with a free gym membership. 💀 Who on earth needs that much pho in one sitting?

When my mom’s restaurant closed and she lost her job, she didn’t flinch. “I’ll apply to be a janitor,” she said. No self-pity, no hesitation, just what’s next? That kind of grit is next level and one that many will not ever understand.😭💞She later worked at Real Fruit Bubble Tea and scored free drinks (which she saved for us!). But even then, she worked overtime almost every day, back aching, feet hurting, and somehow still smiling. I also worked there for a couple of months and enjoyed crafting my own drinks with 2x the mango! 🥭I didn't last long...

Gratitude, Perspective & the Glow‑Up 🍵

It hit me one day while sipping my homemade matcha and answering work emails: I may work hard, but I’ve never truly experienced hard work like my parents did. ☕️ My version of “struggle” is keyboard cramps, bad Wi-Fi, and running out of fino hair mask (that’s the holy grail!). Theirs was sweat, sore backs, and twelve-hour shifts with barely enough time to rest. They built the comfort I get to live in. 🏠😭

So whenever I catch myself thinking, “Ugh, I have to go to the office today,” I stop. No, I get to go to the office. An office with AC, bright lighting, unlimited tea, and free snacks (yes, I take extras home — it’s called fiscal responsibility). 😋 And when I complain about working until 5:30 pm, I remind myself that my parents were lucky to finish at 9:00 pm because most nights were 10 pm or 11 pm.

It’s not about comparing, and it’s definitely not about guilt. It’s about perspective. 👏 Real hard work looks different for everyone, but what my parents did will forever keep me grounded and grateful. I work hard, but my “hard” is cushioned by the sweat equity of two people who refused to give up.

Every time I click “send” on an email, sip on my ceremonial matcha, or walk into a clean office, I think of them. They didn’t just teach me how to work hard — they gave me the reason why hard work matters.

Their struggle became my stability. Their sacrifice turned into my glow-up. ✨ And because of them, I’ll always push forward with gratitude, a little attitude💁‍♀️, and a whole lot of perspective. ❤️