Collaborative Cooking: A Scene of Healthy Communication Between Mother and Daughter
Why did my daughter have such a strong reaction?
My daughter is a senior in high school, and she has been at home resting due to an illness. This afternoon, we were discussing what to have for lunch when she mentioned that she was tired of takeout and wanted home-cooked food. She then paused and, expressing her hunger, suggested settling for instant noodles as she couldn’t wait.
I agreed to prepare the noodles.
Believing that boiled noodles would be healthier and I could add an egg, I took the initiative to cook them instead of just soaking them in hot water. As soon as the noodles were ready, she came into the kitchen, saw that I had boiled them, and completely lost her composure, screaming at me about why it was boiled again.
I explained, thinking boiling was faster, and it’s just a bowl of noodles after all.
Through tears and shouts, she exclaimed that it’s not just about the bowl of noodles or the difference in time between boiling and soaking. She recalled how she told me I could cook for her and she wouldn’t eat it, and how she sent me a recipe for beef rice the day before, instructing just to follow that but I didn’t listen and cooked whatever I felt like, resulting in something that tasted terrible. She even questioned whether I had used beef or lamb, which I hadn’t clarified. Pointing out that we had run out of beef (which she had used up making beef rice the previous week), she suggested I should have sent her father to buy some. She lamented that I always do things my own way and accused me of deceiving her, asking if that was a trivial matter.
The argument reduced her to tears for a long time.
Lately, she flares up over various trivial matters—is it a single small issue or a cumulative effect? What’s going on in her mind?
Effective Communication
In reality, such intense reactions arise due to a lack of proper communication training—not the “nagging” kind of education, which they have undoubtedly received and are well aware of, nor the “pleading” style of education, which they’ve also experienced.
The missing piece is effective deterrence education. Some mistakenly believe deterrence is synonymous with emotional blackmail and harm, akin to emotional terrorism.
This isn’t to say it’s ineffective; terrorism has its tactical merits, providing consolation for the powerless, but relative to genuine conflict and the fine art of tactical deterrence, it’s largely inefficient and broadly applied, with unnecessary costs and unintended side effects. Revolutionaries don’t engage in assassination, kidnap, or terror tactics; instead, they demoralize the enemy, causing fear and breaking their spirit, while terrorists provoke and energize their adversaries, often incurring brutal counterattacks.
Not understanding this distinction leads to the ineffective expression of will, which due to its ineffectiveness, requires increased intensity. This results in high costs and chaos, either creating unnecessary enemies, harming the innocent, or causing the intended passive targets to become actively confrontational.
Calm is crucial. Loud cries don’t equate to greater energy—that’s a misconception. Why do people think this way? They unconsciously accept the premise that a normal person is void of force and that only the abnormal are capable.
Thus, to convince others of their readiness to exert force, they first have to appear abnormal, resorting to demonstrating madness rather than combativeness. Who declared that normalcy precludes the use of force, or that normal people must be driven mad before employing it?
Some want to use the pretense of madness to shirk responsibility for using force—this secret truth they cannot confront is the reason their threats are ineffective. Their entire schema is such: in normalcy, I’m innocuous and harmless, like a loofah, universally beloved. But once provoked into abnormality, I become dangerous, sparking and emitting toxins, for which provocateurs are to blame, not me.
However, these “normal” people hide the fact that they can willingly enter an abnormal state, thinking they can simulate it for “free” violence to achieve a threatening effect.
This calculation is fundamentally flawed. Such a cunning design betrays a pitiful weakness. Against a truly cold-hearted adversary, it’s worthless, and may even turn against them. Such posturing only affects those who are not ruthless by nature, granting concessions out of pity, creating the false impression of successful intimidation.
This is why daughters around the world exhibit such behavior patterns—it’s an adaptation to a pervasive cultural expectation that a “normal person” lacks the will to use force, a cultural genetic residue from thousands of years of human history.
It’s essentially a widespread cultural pathology. Without diving into sociological explanations or questioning the appropriateness of assertiveness, let’s focus on the strictly technical issue: what does successful assertiveness look like, and how can one be effective without being destructive? “Efficient assertiveness” isn’t necessarily “effective assertiveness.”
Efficiency means achieving maximum output with minimal cost and avoiding collateral damage. Whether it’s enough depends on the relative powers involved. The most efficient attempt by an ant to attack an elephant likely won’t even scratch the surface. That’s an internal medicine issue; we in surgery focus strictly on maximizing efficiency, which emanates from four factors: proof of willpower, evidence of patience, demonstrations of courage, and displays of mercy. Assertiveness shouldn’t be mistaken for loud protests or fierce responses—it should compel the other party to consider if the perceived benefits are worth the risk and cost.
The essence of surgical efficiency is not concerned with the subtleties of internal matters, but with the raw force of efficacy, which stems from four factors:
- Evidence of Willpower: This is a testimonial of your resolve—an unstoppable force once you’ve made up your mind. For instance, if you decide to shed weight, and thereon, your disciplined regime of salads and aerobics becomes indisputable as the pounds drop. Or, when you vow to improve your handwriting and months later, the evidence lies in the crumpled sheets filling your trash. These acts, trivial or unrelated to martial prowess as they may seem, are concrete proof that your determined attitude is anything but a bluff. How many such proofs can you present, or do others perceive you only as one who succumbs easily to temptations?
- Evidence of Patience: Regardless of how winding or tortuous the path, the goals upon which I’m steadfastly resolved will be conquered. There’s no relenting, no escape for the target. Absent of changes brought by persuasion, realization of error on my part, or your surrender, there is no reprieve. The steadfast chase is unyielding, and this patience is demonstrative of my commitment.
- Evidence of Courage: Knowing full well the pressure and retaliation that my declaration of firmness could incite, I proceed without illusions. This courage of issuing fair warning, providing conditions for rectification before taking decisive action, is in itself a testimony of bravery. Should you fail to seize the opportunity for correction, the cost to you will become increasingly evident once my actions commence.
- Evidence of Mercy: This signifies an inclination towards magnanimity, a default forgiveness not swayed by personal vendetta or emotion. Some misinterpret this as weakness, failing to see that a merciful person is not overwhelmed by enemies and thus is unencumbered to deal with challenges. Nor should my capacity for support be underestimated—it is precisely because of my recognized benevolence that I am not alone.
Possess these four testimonials, and you possess a silent sternness that obviates the need for vociferous warnings. Discreet yet intense, it allows for the quiet assertion of one’s stance without resorting to palpable threats. In demonstrating these qualities, you’ll find that there is little need for overbearing declarations to garner sober consideration from adversaries about whether their pursuits are worth the risk.