This anonymous submission is by a woman who is torn between visiting her grandma for Chinese New Year and staying in Kuala Lumpur with her husband.
Hi IRL, I need your advice on what to do about my situation.
My name is Melanie, I’m 31, and I work in marketing. Life was going well—I had my career, a good relationship, and big plans for the future. But now, I feel like everything is falling apart, and I don’t know how to fix it.
I’m married to Andrew, a Chinese Malaysian who grew up in London. He’s in IT, designing apps and troubleshooting systems. I love Andrew, but he is very practical. He likes to keep things logical and simple, and he doesn’t believe in traditions or superstitions at all. In his words, “If it’s not proven, it’s just made-up nonsense.”
We met five years ago when he came back to visit some friends in KL. We matched on Tinder and on our first date I reintroduced KL and all the things that changed since he last visited over 10 years ago. Honestly, I thought he was a bit sombong at first. He kept complaining about the heat and how spicy the food was. But as we spent more time together, I saw his kind, thoughtful side.
We started dating long-distance when he went back to London, and after three years of flying back and forth, Andrew decided to move to Malaysia to be with me. We got married in early 2023.
Ah Ma: The Matriarch
At our wedding, Andrew met my grandmother—Ah Ma—for the first time. Ah Ma is the heart of our family and the complete opposite to Andrew. She’s very traditional and superstitious, and at 78, she still runs the family. She believes in feng shui, ancestor worship, and the importance of doing things “the right way” to avoid bad luck.
The main issue is that Ah Ma speaks only Mandarin, and Andrew speaks only English. During the tea ceremony, Ah Ma made a comment about him. “他看起来好像不懂传统.” (“He looks like someone who doesn’t know our traditions.”)
Andrew asked me what she said, and I just smiled awkwardly. “Oh, she thinks you’re nice,” I told him – I didn’t have the heart to translate it directly.
The Perfect House
The first year of marriage went smoothly. Sure, we had our little arguments—Andrew’s habit of leaving socks everywhere drove me crazy—but overall, we were happy.
By the end of 2023, we decided to take the next step and buy a house. After months of searching, we found a double-story terrace in Subang Jaya for RM800,000. It used up all our savings for the down payment, but it was a worthy investment in our future.
The RM800,000 price tag meant our monthly installments would be around RM3,000. It was manageable with both our salaries, but just barely. We had zero buffer — no emergency funds, no backup plan. Looking back, maybe that should have worried me more. But when you’re in love and confident about the future, you think everything will work out somehow.
Besides, I was confident I’d land a high-paying marketing job soon. I had been interviewing with a big company for three months, and they’d hinted I was their top candidate. Everything seemed to be falling into place.
CNY at Our Home
When Chinese New Year approached, Ah Ma asked if we could host the reunion dinner. “I’m too old to prepare everything on my own,” she said. “And I want to see how you’re doing as a married couple.”
Andrew was hesitant, but I convinced him. “It’s just a few days,” I said. “Plus, it’ll make Ah Ma happy.”
But what I didn’t expect was for Ah Ma to arrive two weeks early. “I want to help prepare,” she said as she dragged her luggage in. Andrew’s smile was tight. “The more the merrier,” he said, but I could tell he was already uncomfortable.
Clashes Begin
The first issue arose immediately. Ah Ma frowned when she saw our shoe rack at the front door. “This blocks the flow of chi!” she said in Mandarin.
When I translated it for Andrew, he laughed. “Chi? That’s just air,” he said. “Also, where else are we supposed to put our shoe rack?” He refused to move it, and Ah Ma sulked for the rest of the day.
A few days later, Ah Ma noticed the mirror facing our bed. “This is very bad,” she said. “It will bring financial misfortune.”
I begged Andrew to move it, but he refused. “We’re not rearranging our house for superstition,” he said. Ah Ma muttered under her breath, “You’ll see. This kind of stubbornness always has consequences.”
Over the next two weeks, Ah Ma continued to find fault. The way Andrew left his laptop charging overnight, the time he set for meals, the placement of certain furniture—everything seemed to violate some unseen rule. I tried to smooth things over, but the tension in the house was building, one small clash at a time.
The First Day of CNY
By the first day of Chinese New Year, the atmosphere was strained but manageable. I thought we could get through the day without any major issues. That hope didn’t last long.
It started when Andrew noticed a small patch of dirt near the front door. Without thinking, he grabbed the broom and swept it out of the house.
Ah Ma saw him mid-sweep and froze. “No! You can’t sweep the floor today!” she exclaimed, her voice sharp.
Andrew looked up, confused. “What did I do?”
“She says it’s bad luck to sweep on the first day of CNY,” I explained quickly. “It’s like sweeping away wealth.”
He sighed, lowering the broom. “Mel, it’s just dirt. It’s not going to affect our wealth.”
“Tell him that people who don’t respect tradition won’t have good fortune.” Ah Ma muttered as she walked away.
“She’s just… upset,” I said to Andrew, avoiding his gaze.
“Upset about dirt?” he replied, shaking his head. “I can’t win with her.”
Ah Ma spent the rest of the morning making pointed comments in Mandarin about “how the younger generation doesn’t care about tradition anymore.” She didn’t name Andrew directly, but the meaning was clear. My parents and relatives, who had arrived by then, said nothing, though the disapproval in the air was palpable.
Andrew stayed quiet for most of the day, retreating to his phone while everyone else chatted and ate. I could see the frustration simmering beneath his calm exterior, but he held his tongue.
As I helped clear the table after lunch, I overheard Ah Ma talking to my mother. “This year’s luck has already been swept away.”
Andrew caught my expression as I returned to the living room. “What now?” he asked quietly.
“Nothing,” I said, forcing a smile, but the weight of the tension between them felt heavier than ever.
The Job Offer Falls Through
A month after CNY, I was excited to start my new job when HR called. “Melanie, I’m sorry, but the role we offered you is now redundant,” they said.
I froze. “What? But you already hired me!”
“I know, but it was an internal decision. We’re sorry.”
When I hung up, I felt like my world was crumbling. All our plans—the house, the future—suddenly felt impossible. And in my head, I could hear Ah Ma’s voice: “I told you so.”
Desperate Measures
When Ah Ma heard the news, she insisted the bad feng shui in our house was to blame. “I’ve already called my friends,” she said. “They’ll help fix this.”
Her “friends” were a feng shui master and a spiritual healer. They wouldn’t be cheap, but Ah Ma said, “It’s better to spend money now than suffer later.”
I was desperate, so I agreed. I didn’t tell Andrew—I knew he’d call it nonsense.
The feng shui master pointed out issues with our home, and the healer gave me a talisman for protection. By the end of it, I’d spent nearly RM5,000, and Ah Ma covered another RM2,000.
Every time I handed over money to the feng shui master or healer, I felt sick to my stomach. This was money we couldn’t afford – money that should have gone to our house payment or groceries. But then I’d remember Ah Ma’s words about bad luck following bad luck, and fear would grip me. What if she was right? What if not doing these things meant we’d lose the house next?
The worst part was hiding it from Andrew. I’d never kept secrets from him before. Every time he asked about our dwindling bank account, I’d make up excuses about groceries being expensive or needing new work clothes. The lies made me feel horrible, but I was too scared to stop – scared of the bad luck, scared of losing more, scared of what Andrew would say.
Andrew found out when he saw my WhatsApp chat with them one day. He pushed me for the costs, and I told him. “RM5,000 for this?” he said, furious.
We argued. He called it a scam, and I accused him of not respecting my culture. The fight ended with both of us feeling distant and defeated.
A New Job, But No Relief
Months later, I landed a new job. It wasn’t what I wanted—the pay was lower, and the position wasn’t as good—but it was something.
The new job paid RM2,000 less per month than my previous one. We had to cut back on everything: No more eating out, no movies, no new clothes. But the real cost wasn’t just financial. Andrew and I stopped talking about anything meaningful. Our conversations became purely practical: “Can you pay the electricity bill?” “Did you buy groceries?” “Is there enough for this month’s installment?”
The warmth between us faded. No more random hugs in the kitchen, no more silly jokes about his socks on the floor. Even when we watched TV together, it felt like we were just two strangers sharing a couch. Sometimes, I caught him looking at me with a mixture of disappointment and frustration like he was trying to recognize the woman he married.
Ah Ma insisted the sessions had worked. “The bad luck is gone now,” she said. But I wasn’t convinced. I stopped the rituals, and though life went on, the tension between Andrew and me remained.
Last week, I found one of the old talismans while cleaning. Looking at it, I realized how much money and trust I’d wasted on these things.
But I also understood why I did it – when you’re desperate and scared, even the smallest promise of help feels like a lifeline. I wanted to talk to Andrew about it, to really explain why I did what I did, but the distance between us had grown too wide. It felt easier to just put the talisman away and pretend I never found it.
CNY 2025: Another Dilemma
Now, it’s almost Chinese New Year again. This year, Ah Ma wants the reunion dinner at my parents’ house. “It’s been too long since we gathered as a family,” she said. “You must come.”
When I told Andrew, he sighed. “Do we really have to go? Why can’t we just celebrate here? No drama, no stress.”
“But it’s family,” I said.
“And I’m your family too,” he shot back. “Why is it always about what your Ah Ma wants?”
I love Andrew, but I also love my family. I can’t imagine a CNY without reunion dinner and the warmth of my parents’ house, even if it comes with tension and complaints.
What should I do?
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Read also: My Husband’s Parents Never Invited Me To Chinese New Year Because I Am Indian – In Real Life
My Husband’s Parents Never Invited Me To Chinese New Year Because I Am Indian
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