Susan Lieu’s Story Started When Her Mother’s Ended
In new memoir "The Manicurist’s Daughter," the author explores her mother's unexpected death and her own journey into motherhood
Words by Aleenah Ansari
It’s easy to talk about the events of our life like they’re confined to the past. But sometimes, we need to understand the past and how it informs who we are today, even if it's painful. Susan Lieu is a Vietnamese American playwright, performer, and author who set out to learn more about the day her mother went in for plastic surgery and died due to medical malpractice. In the process of digging into understanding her mother’s story, she delves deeper into Vietnamese beauty standards, her relationship with her family, and what it means to become a mother when she doesn't fully know her own.
Now, Lieu is continuing that exploration in her debut memoir The Manicurist’s Daughter, out March 12. I sat down with Lieu to learn more about what motherhood looks like for her, how her stage performances inform this iteration of this story, and how she’s healing and honoring her inner child.
This interview has been edited for clarity and length.
Aleenah Ansari: How did this memoir come to be?
Susan Lieu: One night, I took out a blank sheet of paper and started drawing out the big hopes I had for myself as a storyteller. I wanted a performance, book, podcast, museum exhibit, movie, and children’s television show. I wanted to dream big for my inner child, to finally give her all the things I assumed were too late for me.
In my early 30s, I was also being pressured to have kids and wondered, “How do I become a mother if I never knew her?” I went on a national tour for my solo show, 140 LBS: How Beauty Killed My Mother while I was pregnant, and it was by sheer luck that a literary agent came to my New York show, which was the fifth show in its iteration. That's when luck and hard work connected for that opportunity to happen.
I began writing this memoir the moment my mother passed when I was 11 years old, churning the details for the last 27 years. In a way, this memoir was already written before I wrote the first word.
AA: When you wrote down your dreams of having a book, podcast, and television show, did you see it as a form of manifestation?
SL: Definitely. We have so many thoughts in our mind, but until you’re intentional about nurturing them, nothing will happen. We are so conditioned to listen to the voices of family, society, and peers, but one of the hardest questions to ask ourselves is, “Who am I, and what do I want?” Then, we have to be courageous enough to listen, honor, and then give life to that answer. In life, we’re either living or we’re dying. When you listen to your calling, that’s when you’re in the driver seat of your life.
View this post on Instagram
AA: You’ve done dozens of live shows about your mother’s story and how it intersects with your own. What’s unique about the version you’re telling in your memoir?
SL: My shows have been a mother-daughter journey where I’m trying to understand my mother and grapple with the intergenerational trauma I inherited. This memoir is a mother-daughter-mother story because it also includes my journey as a mother as I unpack what intergenerational healing actually looks like. After all, preparing to become a mother isn’t just about getting the nursery ready—it’s about confronting your demons so you don’t pass them on to your kids. Once I became a mom, I developed more compassion for my father. I’m raising just one kid, and he raised four under extraordinary circumstances. It’s because of his hardships that I have the privilege to reflect on intergenerational trauma.
One thing that’s stuck with me is the odds of my mom making it to America. She had to win the lottery three times so we could have enough money to escape by boat, survived on her sixth attempt to leave Vietnam, and ultimately became a nail salon owner. She didn’t finish high school in rural Vietnam and eventually sponsored over six family members, fundamentally changing the lives of all her children and her siblings. What she did was superhuman.
AA: Part of getting older is seeing your parents as people too, and knowing that they were trying their best with what they knew. How did writing this book help you understand your mom’s journey more deeply?
SL: As a mom, there’s so much mental load to manage your household. I have so many more advantages than my mom, and yet I still feel like treading water as a parent. My mom was managing two nail salons and caring for 12 people. Given the extreme pressures she was under, I have empathy for why she wanted to get plastic surgery. It was a way to do something just for herself.
View this post on Instagram
AA: In the book, you share a list of questions you wish you had asked your mom that you’ve been able to answer through the process of writing this book, like what your family members thought about your mom’s surgery or if your mom is trying to communicate with you. What other questions have you been able to answer in the process of writing this book?
SL: One of the final questions is, “How am I like you?” And now I know. In a way, my mother and I have gone on parallel journeys and I get feedback from others that I am a reflection of her—that I am her legacy. She feels more alive to me than ever before. She helped me tell our family story and continues to give me a deep well of comfort and inspiration.
AA: What’s been the hardest part of writing this book and telling your story?
SL: People often ask me how I can be so vulnerable with my life story, let alone perform it over and over. That’s not the hard part. It’s pushing up against the status quo of family dysfunction. It’s gathering the courage to ask my elders to stop body shaming me. It’s actually verbalizing to my family what’s okay and not okay.
AA: What do you want people to notice as they read their book?
SL: People are always trying to protect themselves from pain, but sitting with and through your pain can be transformative. I truly believe that it’s when we feel, we heal. To move forward in our lives, we must protect our inner child. Tend to what’s broken and ask for what you need—internally with the self and externally with others.
AA: What does being the manicurist’s daughter mean to you?
SL: It means bringing dignity and complexity to Vietnamese people who work what feels like an anonymous service profession. It’s being a bridge for better between the older and next generation. And finally, it’s remembering that I am deserving of my American Dream (but I got to hustle for it!).
Check out Lieu’s book tour starting next week, with stops in New York City, Seattle, San Francisco, and more, and pre-order a copy of her book, The Manicurist’s Daughter.
Published on March 7, 2024
Words by Aleenah Ansari
Aleenah Ansari (she/her) is equal parts storyteller, creative problem solver, and journalist at heart who's rooted in the stories of people behind products, companies, and initiatives. She’s written about travel, entrepreneurship, mental health and wellness, and representation in media for Insider, CNBC, The Seattle Times, Kulfi, and more. You can usually find her searching for murals in Seattle and beyond, reading a book by a BIPOC author, and planning her next trip to New York. Learn more at www.aleenahansari.com.