My daughter’s boyfriend has always struck me as a cautious, hard‑working man. He owns his own house, drives his own car, and carries no debts. He lives simply, saves diligently, and avoids unnecessary spending. His job is steady, with a medium salary that covers his bills and allows him to put money aside.
As an accountant, I admired his discipline. That’s why, during a casual lunch conversation, I was surprised to learn he had taken on debt for a business deal. It caught me off guard. I never imagined him making such a bold move.
To me, it felt reckless. Real estate can be unpredictable, and if things turn for the worse, the consequences could be heavy. I thought he should have waited a few years, saved more, and avoided borrowing altogether.
My mind immediately went to numbers. I ran scenarios in my head — worst case, best case — and even in the best outcome, the profit seemed modest. I couldn’t understand why he would risk so much for so little gain.
When I spoke with him directly, I kept my tone professional. I didn’t share my personal doubts. I wanted to respect his decision, even if I disagreed with it.
Later, I spoke with my daughter. I admitted my confusion. I told her I couldn’t reconcile his cautious nature with this choice. I confessed it had been keeping me up at night.
She listened quietly, then told me this was exactly why she hadn’t wanted me involved. She said I sounded pessimistic, as though I was calling him “one of my clients who never knows what they are doing.”
Her words stung. She explained that her boyfriend only pursued the deal because he believed himself capable, not reckless. She felt uncomfortable, worried I was labeling him unfairly.
I realized then how easily business concerns can spill into personal life. My intention was to warn them, to offer perspective. But my daughter felt it was judgment disguised as concern.
She told me I always do this — hide my judgment behind a layer of worry. And perhaps she’s right.
