Family Life

Nguyễn Xuân Bình Minh married on January 6, 2015. To her husband, Bình Minh was never merely a wife. She was his closest companion, his confidant, his quiet understanding, and his true soulmate. Side by side, they walked through moments of joy and sorrow, through trials and uncertainties, through shared smiles and silent tears, bound together by love, passions, and the simplest rhythms of life.

In the early days, Minh did not love running. It was her husband, Dr. Đinh Linh, who carried a deep and steady passion for the sport. Over time, almost without realizing it, Minh grew to love long-distance running as well. She often followed her husband to races—sometimes running the full marathon, sometimes choosing the shorter half marathon, and at other times simply standing at the finish line, waiting for him. 

Eleven years together passed, leaving behind countless tender memories. Their greatest blessing was their three children: Mai Chi, Thùy An, and Huỳnh Lâm—the living legacy of a love that continues on.

"More than anyone else, I witnessed your long and exhausting period of injury — the sadness you felt each time you saw your friends running, the frustration when you realized that treatment wasn’t working, and the fear that you might never be able to continue the greatest passion of your life.

I know that this achievement came at the cost of extraordinary determination and iron discipline — a special quality in you that I believe very few people possess. I know you had to organize your schedule down to the minute so you could train intensely, excel at your work at the hospital, and take care of the children while your wife was away studying. You are a wonderful role model of passion and perseverance for me and for our children to learn from.

I truly believe that your best achievements and your most amazing running experiences are still waiting for you ahead. There isn’t much I can do except “allow” you to go running and not force you to eat the food I cook (because you’d gain weight and wouldn’t be able to run fast!) But I am always incredibly happy and proud every time I see you achieve great results on the road. I hope I can continue to walk alongside you and share the joy of running with you for a very, very long time.

I love you."

A reflection shared by Bình Minh after her husband completed a full marathon in 2 hours and 47 minutes—shattering his personal best by nine minutes—following a long 17-month period of injury and absence from competition.

Goodbye, my breast pump…

“Today my little Nai turns eight months old, and it is also the time when I prepare to say goodbye to breastfeeding. The feelings are hard to put into words, because this journey has become such an important part of my life over the past months.

I have grown so accustomed to the gentle hum of this machine, to carrying a backpack heavier than everyone else’s to class every day—filled with pump parts, bottles, tubes, and sometimes even dish soap tucked inside, just in case. I can no longer count how many times I had to excuse myself from class midway, or rush home in a hurry, just to pump milk on time.

And yet, nothing compares to the happiness of seeing my tiny daughter suddenly stop crying the moment she buries her head into her mother’s chest. Or the quiet pride of having exclusively breastfed her for six months, looking at her and thinking to myself, ‘You’ve grown this big entirely from me.’

When I count it all up, it has been a total of 38 months—more than three years—during which I was either carrying a baby inside me or producing milk to nourish one. That feels like a long enough journey, doesn’t it? Perhaps now it is time to let my body rest, to belong to myself again—to run freely, to exercise, to take medication when needed, or simply to care for my appearance, to dye my hair or wear makeup, without worrying about how it might affect my milk.

So goodbye, my breast pump.”

Bình Minh, March 22, 2019

“Even before we had children, my husband and I agreed on one thing: we would never hit our children. They are our own flesh and blood—born of us, loved by us—and even loving them never feels like enough. How could we bear to cause them pain?

I know that even today, many people still see hitting children as something normal. It doesn’t take looking far—scenes of parents striking their children for disobedience are things I still witness every day on the street. When I was in school, I remember teachers often calling misbehaving students to the blackboard and striking their hands with a ruler ‘to teach them a lesson.’ I wonder whether such punishments are still used today.

I don’t judge whether that is right or wrong, because everyone has their own way of raising children. But as long as society continues to think this way, there will still be many children who suffer abuse, and many bystanders who remain indifferent. After all, how much hitting is considered ‘normal’? At what point does it become abuse? When does it cross the line and require reporting to the authorities? Those boundaries are painfully hard to define.

I myself have two children who are entering their stubborn years. There is no shortage of ‘offenses’: whining and arguing, refusing to eat, resisting studying, even lying. And not only physical punishment—so-called milder penalties, such as locking a child in a room or taking away certain privileges—do not, in my view, offer an optimal solution for teaching children either.

I am currently reading How to Talk So Little Kids Will Listen, and I deeply agree with the author’s views on the harmful effects of punishment in general, and corporal punishment in particular:

• When parents rely on punishment, there is a risk of escalation. As children grow accustomed to it, lighter punishments lose their effect, and harsher ones are gradually required.

• Punishment breeds resentment and frustration, causing children to focus only on escaping the punishment as quickly as possible.

• Children who are frequently punished may develop a defiant mindset and become more resistant toward their parents.

• Children learn by imitation. When punished or hit, they may be more likely to use violence themselves—with friends, siblings, people around them, or even against their parents.

• Punishment does not teach children why they should not do something, nor does it offer them lessons on how to resolve life’s problems.

So if we don’t punish, how do we get children to listen? People are most willing to do something when (1) they do it voluntarily rather than under coercion, and (2) they have a clear purpose and feel that what they are doing is meaningful. My husband and I are still struggling to find ways to raise our children without resorting to punishment or physical discipline. But I believe that only by awakening positive emotions and a sense of self-motivation in a child can real and lasting change occur—and at the same time help shape good character and healthy habits.”

Bình Minh, December 30, 2021