#1: The map is not the territory
Throughout my years in this profession, I’ve sat through conversations where a mother would just sit in complete silence... as tears silently rolled down her face.
Behind those tears lay not just sadness, but a profound sense of helplessness, exhaustion, and sometimes utter shock at how rapidly her child was changing.
“Back in sixth grade, he was such a top student—he even made it to the city-level gifted student competition.”
“She used to be so affectionate and caring. Whenever there was something delicious, she’d always save a piece for me.”
“When he was little, he’d tell me everything. Now, no matter what I ask, all I get is silence.”
I’ve sat with many mothers who wept for their children for nearly an hour. The heartbreaking part is that their memories of their children seemed to have frozen in time—frozen back when the child was only seven or eight years old.
It’s like a promising, long-running TV series where the "next episode" never gets filmed.
Loving your children and pouring your heart into raising them doesn’t automatically mean you truly know them.
Giving them the best of everything and offering wise advice doesn’t mean you are truly seeing them.
Even living under the same roof and meeting their every need... doesn't guarantee a real connection.
Is what you are "seeing" really the whole person, or just a shadow of who they used to be?
In reality, what you "know about your child" is merely the "map" you hold of them. It’s a map drawn from your own experiences, expectations, fears, beliefs, past disappointments, and emotional baggage.
In my training program, there is a classic maxim—one hammered into us to ensure that we, as coaches, always stay mindful of what we think we know:
"The map is not the territory"
What we hear, see, or think we know about someone... is never the absolute, whole truth of who they are.
Think about how Google updates its maps.
They constantly gather fresh data, track user feedback, and pour massive budgets into recalibrating that map every single day, every single hour.
Yet, we still run into glitches... A new road opens up, but it’s not on Google Maps yet. You drive to a restaurant the map says is open, only to find a closed sign. On a family camping trip, my own family once spent a stressful hour maneuvering a tight U-turn because the map led us straight into a dead end.
And as mothers, we do the exact same thing.
In our minds, our children are still the sweet, goofy, talkative little kids who loved to snuggle with Mom to sleep. But every hour of every day, their brains are evolving. They are navigating new emotions, facing new pressures, and carrying fears they don’t even know how to put into words.
This isn’t just true for mothers and children; it’s true for every relationship in our lives.
We will never completely map out "the territory of another person," but we can absolutely commit to updating our map of them every day.
Right now, take a pause and honestly ask yourself:
"When was the last time the two of you just shared a genuine laugh?"
"When was the last time they willingly came to you for guidance on a struggle they were facing?"
"How long has it been since they made a mistake and felt safe telling you about it, without getting a lecture or a reminder in return?"
"After your last conversation, did they walk away feeling lighter, or more stressed?"
I’d love to hear from you:
"How have you updated the map of the people you love today?"
Do we have the humility to ask ourselves: "Am I still looking at the people I love through an outdated map?"
"The more we see - the more we are capable of seeing."
— Maria Mitchell, Astronomer
*This article was translated from the original Vietnamese version using the AI tool, Gemini.
