Every New Year, there's a scene in our family that feels especially familiar:
In the kitchen, mom, my aunt, and my aunt-in-law are busy in the steam, washing vegetables, chopping, cooking, and tidying up, working from morning till night. In the living room, most of us women of the younger generation are sitting, chatting, resting, and keeping company with the kids, rarely diving back into the kitchen. Some say it's because young people are becoming lazy. But the more I grow up, the more I realize it's not laziness; it's that the times are quietly changing. The busyness of the previous generation was a gentle part of the era. When my mom and her peers were young, the flavor of the New Year was made by hand. Resources were scarce, there weren't as many restaurants and takeout options outside, and the dignity and warmth of a family depended entirely on their own hands. The kitchen was their main stage; the meals were their expression; and being busy was their most sincere sense of value. That wasn't confinement; it was the most genuine love of their generation. Our generation has simply found a different way to live. By the time it’s our turn, life has already changed completely. We study, work, and hustle on our own outside, often driven by work and life, and during the New Year, all we want is to catch our breath. Our worth no longer needs to be proven through household chores. Being independent, responsible, and living a good life is the best way to show who we are. Many times, when we try to help, elders will push us away: “Sit down, I’ll handle it.” They complain about our clumsiness, but inside, they are full of concern. They’ve spent a lifetime inhaling the fumes of cooking, so they are most reluctant to see their daughters walk the same hard path again. This isn’t a generation gap, nor is it opposition. It’s the silent, gentle support between two generations of women. True New Year flavor has never been in the kitchen. It’s never about someone working tirelessly at the stove. It’s about: Someone willing to spend half a lifetime for your warmth, Someone who understands the weight of that dedication. May every woman be treated with tenderness: not bound by roles, not burdened by expectations, living comfortably, freely, and loved in her own era.
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Every New Year, there's a scene in our family that feels especially familiar:
In the kitchen, mom, my aunt, and my aunt-in-law are busy in the steam, washing vegetables, chopping, cooking, and tidying up, working from morning till night.
In the living room, most of us women of the younger generation are sitting, chatting, resting, and keeping company with the kids, rarely diving back into the kitchen.
Some say it's because young people are becoming lazy.
But the more I grow up, the more I realize it's not laziness; it's that the times are quietly changing.
The busyness of the previous generation was a gentle part of the era.
When my mom and her peers were young, the flavor of the New Year was made by hand.
Resources were scarce, there weren't as many restaurants and takeout options outside, and the dignity and warmth of a family depended entirely on their own hands.
The kitchen was their main stage;
the meals were their expression;
and being busy was their most sincere sense of value.
That wasn't confinement; it was the most genuine love of their generation.
Our generation has simply found a different way to live.
By the time it’s our turn, life has already changed completely.
We study, work, and hustle on our own outside, often driven by work and life, and during the New Year, all we want is to catch our breath.
Our worth no longer needs to be proven through household chores.
Being independent, responsible, and living a good life is the best way to show who we are.
Many times, when we try to help, elders will push us away:
“Sit down, I’ll handle it.”
They complain about our clumsiness, but inside, they are full of concern.
They’ve spent a lifetime inhaling the fumes of cooking, so they are most reluctant to see their daughters walk the same hard path again.
This isn’t a generation gap, nor is it opposition.
It’s the silent, gentle support between two generations of women.
True New Year flavor has never been in the kitchen.
It’s never about someone working tirelessly at the stove.
It’s about:
Someone willing to spend half a lifetime for your warmth,
Someone who understands the weight of that dedication.
May every woman be treated with tenderness:
not bound by roles, not burdened by expectations,
living comfortably, freely, and loved in her own era.