Why I’ll Never Travel With My Mom Again (Part. 1)

A few years ago, I had this brilliant idea to take the family to Huizhou for a hot spring vacation. I booked a villa with a private hot spring pool, a BBQ setup, a mahjong table, and even karaoke. It seemed perfect, right?

I told my mom about it, and the next day, she texted me: “Hey, your uncle’s family is coming too.” I thought, “Okay, no big deal, I get along with my uncle, might as well have the whole gang join in.” So I called the butler, and of course, I had to change rooms. My uncle’s family had five people, so we needed three extra rooms. It was a bit of a hassle, but the butler said it was no problem—plenty of space.

The next day, my mom texted again: “Oh, and your aunt’s coming too. It’ll be so much fun if we get more people.” I was starting to feel a little annoyed by then and asked her, “How many people are you inviting?” She said, “Just family, don’t worry.”

Okay, fine. But then, on day four, she dropped the bomb: “Oh, by the way, your little uncle’s coming too.” That was it. What was supposed to be a five-person trip turned into an 18-person disaster.

I messaged the butler again, and he told me there was no villa that could fit everyone. He asked if we could split into two groups and book two villas. Mom wouldn’t have any of it. “Too expensive,” she said. “I’ll just bring blankets and sleep on the floor with your dad.”

Wait, hold on. I was paying for this trip, and my family was going to sleep on the floor? That was where I drew the line. But she was so set on it that I gave up trying to talk sense into her.

Then, the next day, she sent me a message asking, “What if the hotel’s a scam? You know, like when you pay online, and then they charge you a different price when you get there?” I told her that wasn’t going to happen. “It’s not a scam, I promise.” She replied, “I asked some relatives, and they said it happened to them!” So now I had to prove it wasn’t a scam. I just stopped replying.

By day six, she messaged again: “What if the hot spring is fake? Is the pool deep enough? What if someone drowns?” At that point, I was done and didn’t respond. Then, on day seven: “Are you sure this hotel exists? I heard some places just take the money and disappear!” Still nothing from me.

By day eight, she said, “Maybe we shouldn’t go. This feels like a scam.” I didn’t say a word. But then, on day nine, she hit me with, “I haven’t slept in days. I keep dreaming we’re drowning in the hot spring!” That was when I lost it and told her, “Just don’t come. You’re the only one who should stay behind. If you show up, you’re a dog. Got it?”

Her response? “How can I trust you guys if I’m not there?” I said, “Fine, just shut up.” And, shockingly, she listened.

The morning we were supposed to leave, she pulled out this massive cardboard box and said she was packing in it. I seriously almost lost it.

I asked, “You’re putting all your clothes in that box? What happened to the suitcase?”

She replied, “There’s no need. This box can hold everything. The suitcase is too small.”

So now we looked like we were headed to a rummage sale. The box had no lid, just a bunch of tape holding it together, and it looked like it had been through a few battles. But hey, whatever made her happy, right?

I swore right then and there I would never invite her on another trip again.

When we finally arrived at the villas, we were greeted by a maze of identical buildings. We started looking for our villa, and my dad missed a sign. My mom totally flipped out. “I knew it! This is a scam! There’s no villa here! We’ve been swindled!”

My brother tried to calm her down, “Mom, relax, we just missed it. We’ll turn around and find it.” But nope, she was convinced we were being scammed. “The butler’s a fraud!”

A few minutes later, we pulled up to the villa, and there was the butler waiting for us. Mom’s face turned bright red, and she sheepishly said, “Well… this place isn’t bad.”

And then the best part: when we opened the trunk, we realized that stupid cardboard box with all our clothes was still at home. My sister almost started crying. “All our clothes are in there—except yours! We don’t have spare clothes, no underwear! Even the swimsuits are in that box!”

Thank God I packed an extra set of clothes, so I gave them to my sister. My aunt, being a genius, packed extra swimsuits just in case something like this happened, so we all had something to wear. Otherwise, we wouldn’t even have been able to enjoy the hot spring.

That night, the three of us siblings were crammed into a tiny room with three single beds. We were basically sleeping on top of each other. Meanwhile, my parents, grandma, and little cousin were in a room with a double bed, and everyone was squished together. It was a nightmare.

On the way back, my mom said, “I had such a great time, we should totally do this again next time!” There was total silence in the car. Not a single word from anyone.

Honestly, I didn’t want to say this about my mom, but she’s a bit… off. She wouldn’t get help, and while she seemed normal, her true personality only showed when she was with her family. If I had known what I was getting into, I wouldn’t have gone if they paid me.

After that disaster of a trip, I thought I’d learned my lesson. I decided not to tell my mom about the next family outing—I was taking my brother and sister to the beach, and I wasn’t about to invite her. I even specifically told them not to say anything. But, of course, my mom somehow found out. She was rummaging through my sister’s express parcel one day and found a swimsuit. So she started grilling my sister, and, of course, my sister spilt the beans.

From that day on, my mom went into a full panic mode. Every single day, I got messages from her.

Day 1:

Mom: “You’re gonna drown, you know? Every year, so many people drown at the beach. Don’t go!”

Day 2:

Mom: “The hotel you booked isn’t a scam, right? You’re not going to show up and find out they’re charging extra money, are you?”

Day 3:

Mom: “I saw a news story where people swam too far out and got drowned. You’re not going to swim out there, are you?”

Me: “Did you sign us up for swimming lessons?”

Mom: “No.”

Me: “Did you ever take us to a pool?”

Mom: “No.”

Me: “Have you ever let us near any body of water?”

Mom: “No.”

Me: “Then why do you think we’d suddenly swim all the way out to the other side and drown? We don’t even know how to swim!”

Mom: “Who knows? Maybe the sea will look so nice that you’ll all just jump in anyway!”

Me: “What, do you think we’re all like you? With a screw loose?”

Day 4:

Mom: “Maybe you shouldn’t go after all. Some people just stand by the shore and still get knocked over by waves and drown.”

Day 5:

Mom: “I haven’t slept in days. Please, for the love of God, don’t go. What if you drown? How am I supposed to live with that?!”

Day 6:

We finally left. Before we even got in the car, my mom took ten minutes to pack and said she was coming with us.

Me: “…”

Mom: “I can’t relax unless I’m with you guys.”

At that point, I had officially given up. The second she got into the car, the entire mood in the vehicle just… died. Everyone was done.

We got to the hotel, and, naturally, the first thing out of her mouth was: “This isn’t a scam, right? This isn’t one of those fake hotels?”

My brother and sister spent the whole time trying to calm her down and explain all the things to her.

Once we checked in, we went to the beach. It was packed with people, but of course, my mom stood behind us, eyes glued to us like a hawk.

She kept shouting: “Don’t go in! Don’t go in!”

My brother turned to me and said, “Look at her, she starts again.”

I just told him, “Ignore her, she’ll get tired.”

But nope, when she saw we weren’t reacting, she rushed to the front and started following us.

As we got our feet wet, my mom screamed, “Come back! Come back!”

She was yelling so loudly that my brother got embarrassed. “I’m not even in the water yet, stop shouting!”

Honestly, it was just the three of us adults standing at the edge, playing with the sand, while a bunch of kids were actually swimming. But there she was, yelling every time we even got close to the water.

My brother finally cracked and started laughing. He grabbed me, and we ran away.

On the way back, she started again: “I told you the beach wouldn’t be fun.”

My brother shot back, “It depends on who you’re with.”

Mom: “Next time, we are not coming.”

My brother: “You should use an ‘I am’ at the start of that sentence. It’ll sound better.”

After that, we made sure to keep things super hush-hush. We didn’t tell her about our plans ever again.

When My Mom Harassed My Uncle and Aunt

Even my uncle and aunt weren’t safe from her.

At the time, my grandfather was battling cancer, and his biggest wish was to see Tiananmen Square in Beijing. It was the one thing he really wanted to do.

So, my uncle suggested that they book a tour for my grandparents, but none of the other siblings had time to go. My mom, without hesitation, volunteered to go with them.

At the time, my uncle had no idea that my mom was so toxic. So, he agreed.

It played out almost exactly like the whole “me and my mom” scenario. Every single day, she harassed my uncle. She worried about flight crash, she was convinced it was a shopping tour, worried they’d get dragged off to some scammy store, or that they’d be forced off the plane halfway through the flight. Was the hotel really in Beijing? Or was it just some place that pretended to be Tiananmen Square?

She hounded him for two weeks straight. Every single day, she would message him, bombarding him with these worries.

Now, my uncle is really patient. He’s got tons of class and never curses, plus he respects my mom a lot. Every time she asked a question, he’d patiently explain it.

But after a while, even he couldn’t take it anymore. He messaged her: “Are you going or not? If not, just shut up already!”

That shut her up for a couple of days.

But two days later, she was back at it. “What if there’s a plane crash? What if it’s a scam? What if they make you get off the plane halfway?” Day and day.

Finally, my uncle snapped and stopped replying to her. Instead, he called her on WeChat and laid into her for a solid 10 minutes: “If you want to go, go. If you don’t, then leave us alone!”

After that, my mom was calm for a while, but she never went on another trip. No one was brave enough to take her anywhere anymore. And frankly, she totally deserved it.

Why My Mom Is Like This (A Thorough Analysis)

So, why is my mom like this? I’ve thought about it a lot. She just has this overwhelming need to control everything. Even when she has no clue what she’s doing, she still wants to call the shots.

But here’s the kicker: she’s never taken us on any kind of trip. Not even to the park. The only time she’d take us anywhere was on New Year’s Day—literally, just to the park. That’s it. So, she has zero experience planning trips, booking hotels, or organizing any kind of itinerary.

Normally, someone like that would just shut up, show up, and let the experts do their thing, right? But no, not my mom. Like I said, she’s got this need to control everything. So, she starts questioning every decision, nitpicking the plans with her very limited knowledge, until the person who’s actually doing the planning just gives up and hands her the reins.

And you know what happens next? She takes full advantage of it. It’s like she waits for you to finally crumble under the pressure and say, “Okay, fine, you do it.”

I’ve mentioned before, my mom has never taken us beyond our small town—except, of course, when we went back to our hometown to visit family. She’s got no travel experience. None. And yet, somehow, she still has an opinion about every detail. So, the end result is always the same: she either cancels the trip last-minute, or she spends the whole planning process nagging us to death until we just give in.

One year, my uncle took my paternal grandma to Nan’ao Island, and my mom was furious about it. She insisted on taking my maternal grandma to Nan’ao Island too. She gave my boyfriend the chance to be the “good guy” and try to organize the trip. I warned him—don’t fall for it. I tried to reason with the guy, but of course, he wanted to try hard to please my mom. So, he promised her, “Don’t worry, everything will be fine. She’ll have a great time.”

Cut to non-stop harassment. My boyfriend was practically coughing up blood six times in two months. He said, “Okay, Auntie, you make the decision.”

So, the control went right back to my mom. Within half an hour, she pulled the plug: “Forget it. It feels too risky. We’re not going.”

And just like that—the nightmare was over.

So, I came to this conclusion:

Letting her have control over the plans = kissing the trip goodbye.

Oh, and then, my mom had another brilliant idea. She suggested we drive to Nan’ao Island (a 398-kilometer one-way trip) to “check out the sea”—but we wouldn’t actually get out of the car. No hotel, no food, just a quick drive-by. Why? Because, according to her, we might drown if we got out of the car.

I was like, “Yeah, no. Let’s not torture the old folks, okay?”

She sighed dramatically, all disappointed: “I just wanted to take your grandma on a nice trip.”

I was like, “No, you didn’t. Go take her to your same old park, again. She’s probably sick of it by now. Seriously, every year, you drag her to the same place until she’s this close to pulling her hair out.”