I became a lawyer because my mom wanted me to. I wish I had followed my dreams instead.
I am the daughter of an immigrant mother from the Philippines. I became a lawyer not because it was my dream, but because it was hers.
Legal work came with financial stability, but over time, I felt increasingly unfulfilled. When I had children of my own, I made a promise to encourage them to pursue what they truly loved—something I never got to do.
My Mother’s Dream for Me
My mom came to the United States at 16 with little more than hope and determination. She worked tirelessly to give me every opportunity she never had. Her vision of success was clear: she wanted me to become a doctor. But when I fainted at the sight of blood, she recalibrated and set her sights on law as Plan B.
As a first-generation American, I carried the weight of her sacrifices. Immigrant parents often equate success with financial security, and I felt that pressure deeply. Becoming a lawyer seemed like the responsible choice—the way to honor her hard work and fulfill the American dream she fought so hard to reach.
The Realization at 50
But wealth doesn’t guarantee happiness.
That truth hit me squarely in my 50th year. At that point, I had enjoyed a successful legal career—working at one of Washington, D.C.’s largest law firms, even holding a political appointment at the U.S. Justice Department. I was married to a successful attorney, we traveled in style, belonged to a country club, and lived what looked like the ideal life.
But beneath the surface, I felt empty.
My marriage ended, and I turned to alcohol to numb the ache of a life that didn’t feel like my own. The law paid well, yes—but it never gave me joy.
I began to regret not following my own dreams. As a young woman, I had always been drawn to storytelling and public speaking. I longed to be a broadcast journalist or television commentator, but those paths didn’t align with my mother’s definition of success.
At 50, I decided to change everything.
I launched my own podcast, co-hosted a radio show in Washington, D.C., gave a TEDx Talk, and started booking speaking engagements. These experiences gave me a taste of what could have been—if only I had dared to choose myself earlier.
A New Chapter
That same year, I challenged myself to try 50 new things—to discover who I really was outside of my roles as a lawyer, a wife, and a mother. What emerged was a life that looked nothing like what my mother would have chosen. But now, she understands that this chapter is mine alone.
Inspired by my own journey, I encouraged my children to follow their hearts, not societal expectations or parental pressure.
My daughter chose to study social work, a path driven by compassion rather than a paycheck. It brings her deep fulfillment, and that’s what matters most.
My son pursued the arts—a field many would call unstable. Yet he carved out a successful career as a social media influencer, singer, and actor. In just one year, he earned more than I ever did in law.
Watching them has taught me something powerful: the younger generations are redefining success. They’re choosing purpose over prestige, passion over paycheck. And perhaps most importantly, they’re claiming ownership over their own lives.
A New Perspective on Parenting
Looking back, I realize that while my mother’s intentions were rooted in love, she never asked me what *I* wanted. Perhaps I wouldn’t have known the answer at 20. But maybe if someone had asked, I would have started searching sooner.
Now, at 61, I’m healthier than ever—not just physically, but emotionally and spiritually. I’ve come to understand that no one else is responsible for my happiness. I surround myself with people who support my growth and celebrate my individuality.
I live a life that reflects my values, not someone else’s dreams. It doesn’t look like what I once imagined—or what my mother expected. But for the first time, it’s entirely mine.
And that makes all the difference.