I Love My Parents, But I Can't Afford To Be Their Retirement Plan

There’s a specific milestone of Singaporean adulthood that hits you like a surprise ERP gantry. Imagine this - you’re just trying to live your life, pay rent, plan for the triple threat of wedding, BTO and renovation down payment and then suddenly…

Your parents retire.

Next thing you realise, you’ve quietly been promoted into a role you never applied for: Family CFO. (Chief Funding Officer.)

Both my parents retired at the end of 2025, and I’ve been feeling the unspoken pressure of becoming their retirement plan. Not because they sat me down and demanded money like some villain in a drama. My parents are good people. I love them. I want to help them.

But the assumption is there that as the eldest son (and currently unmarried), I will naturally be the first point of financial dependence if anything happens. And I’m not alone in this sentiment.

Children as a financial safety net

According to the Manulife Asia Care Survey 2024, 60% of Singapore respondents who already have kids (or plan to) see children as a financial safety net for retirement. Across Asia, the number was almost the same at 59%.

And here’s the part that really sums up the sandwich generation experience: 55% of respondents also said supporting their own elderly parents feels like a financial burden.

So basically, many parents see kids as a “great investment”… while many kids are quietly thinking, “Wah, I’m the investment ah?”

Personally, I read the survey and let out an exasperated laugh - not because it’s funny-funny, but because it’s painfully accurate. It’s the kind of thing you joke about to cope, like how Singaporeans call stress “just tired only”. Because the truth is: I’m living it.

Millennials are currently the "sandwich generation”

Sandwich generation? Sometimes, I feel more like a panini… getting pressed from both sides until your brain becomes toast.

On one side: Ageing parents, retirement needs, medical worries: “Can you help with this bill?”

On the other side: Your own life, future plans, and the very small matter of trying not to be financially destroyed in Singapore.

I’m 33 this year. I’m not married yet. I’m trying to save for the future. On top of that, my career has been a bit of a rollercoaster lately. I got retrenched last year (won’t name the company, but it was a big one), bounced between two jobs, and I’m currently applying for a new role, all within the last 12 months.

So when people say, “Just give allowance lah,” I’m like…with what money? Pokemon cards, ah?

Giving parents allowance as a form of filial piety

The concept of filial piety is not only a core tenet of good, Asian values. I wholly believe in showing love to my parents for the effort they spent in raising us. I’m not here to escape responsibility.

But can we also acknowledge that adulthood now comes with a lot more expenses than it did for our parents, especially in this era. So supporting two retired parents isn’t as simple as “just give allowance”. It becomes a balancing act:

• Help them, but don’t drown
• Save for your future, but don’t feel guilty
• Be a good son, but don’t become a walking ATM
• Stay loving, but don’t silently build resentment

IMAGE: CANVA

The one thing that really triggers me is when I start getting all these loaded off-hand comments from my dad, especially…

“Make sure you set aside money for me…”

“You know my CPF is not enough right…”

“I raised you all since you were kids…”

Some parents don’t always ask directly. They plant the idea gently. Not my dad. He knows my exact pay day. Almost clockwork. Just texts. Cold and direct. No “how is everything going with your job hunt?” It’s always, “Have you transferred me yet?”

And look — I love my parents. I really do. I want to help them. They raised me, fed me, supported me in ways I only fully understand now as an adult. But when filial piety is measured by the amount of zeros behind what I Paynow him, then it becomes disingenuous.

Because the truth is, resentment doesn’t start from not loving your parents. It starts from feeling like you have no choice.

The awkward truth: some parents didn’t plan retirement properly

This is the part that feels almost illegal to admit out loud in a Singapore household.

Sometimes, our parents didn’t plan their retirement properly.

Not because they’re bad people. Not because they didn’t work hard. But because their generation grew up with different assumptions:

• “Children will take care of us.”
• “CPF will be enough.”
• “We don’t need to talk about money.”
• “Aiya, God will provide.”

In my dad’s case, his CPF savings and payout aren’t enough to comfortably cover monthly expenses as he turns 65. And because of that, he’s relying heavily on his sons (I have two other brothers) to help him maintain his monthly needs.

Again, I love my dad. I respect him. I’m grateful for him.

But gratitude doesn’t magically create a spare $1,000 every month. 

So the emotional tension becomes real: You want to be filial, but you also don’t want to drown financially. You want to help, but you don’t want to become the only plan. Unfortunately, sometimes it feels like I’m treated as the solution to all his financial woes.

So what do you do when love is there, but money is not?

Does it make me a bad son, if I tell him how much I can give him based on what is manageable and reject him when he asks for more?

Am I cruel and ungrateful for asking him to consider having a part-time job to keep him occupied in his retirement years so that he has some financial freedom?

These questions play on my mind all the time. And I hate the fact that I’m put into such a situation in the first place.

So what is a sensible compromise, then?

Here’s what I’ve realised: The answer isn’t “don’t help”. And it also isn’t “help until you collapse”.

I believe a fair middle ground is structured support.

Because unstructured support is where things get messy. That’s when every month becomes a guessing game, every request becomes emotional, and every “small amount” becomes not so small.

Here’s my take on this:

1. Agree on a fixed monthly contribution

Instead of random top-ups whenever something happens, decide on a number you can commit to without panic.

Not the number that makes you look like a hero. The number that keeps you stable.

Even $200 to $400 is meaningful, if it’s consistent and sustainable.

The sentiment remains: You want to support them long-term, so it should ideally be something steady that you can keep up every month.

This frames it as commitment, not outright rejection.

2. Split responsibilities with siblings (fairly)

If you have siblings, please don’t do the eldest-son thing where you tank everything until you break.

Family support should be a group project, not a solo mission.

For example, you can suggest:

• One person covers groceries
• One covers bills
• One gives cash allowance
• One handles medical/admin matters

Also, I am of the belief that if you earn more, you should contribute more. It’s not about being calculative. It’s about making it sustainable for your younger siblings who might just be starting out in their careers.

IMAGE: CANVA

3. Separate “needs” from “wants”

This one is hard because Asian parents sometimes treat wants like needs.

(Example: upgrading phone because “battery not good” even though it works perfectly fine.)

Try to prioritise:

• Essentials: food, utilities, medical
• Recurring obligations: phone bills, transport
• Emergency buffer

And be honest about what you can’t cover.

4. Help them plan a basic retirement budget

This sounds scary, but it can be simple.

Sit down and list things like:

• Monthly expenses
• CPF payout amount
• Savings
• Insurance coverage
• What gap remains

As the eldest child, I always have to manage my parents' expectations on the things they purchase, if it’s something reasonable (i.e. a new fan) or unneeded luxury (branded air-conditioner for every room).

5. Encourage dignity-preserving income (if possible)

This is a sensitive topic, but for some parents, a small side income helps a lot while keeping them active.

Not “go and work until you die”.

More like:

• Part-time work
• Simple freelance gigs
• Helping a friend’s business
• Community roles

Some parents may reject it at first because of pride. But you can frame it as:

“Not because you need money, but because it’s good to stay active and meet people.”

What to say without starting World War III at the dinner table: 
If you’re wondering how to even bring this up without sounding like the worst child alive, here are a few tried-and-tested scripts you can borrow from my playbook:

If they hint for money: “I want to help, but I need us to plan it properly so I don’t overpromise.”

If they expect you to cover everything: “I can support, but I can’t be the only plan. Let’s work something out together.”

If you feel guilty saying no: “It’s not that I don’t want to help, I’m trying to make sure I can help consistently.”

If you need boundaries: “I can commit to $X monthly, but I can’t do sudden big amounts unless it’s an emergency.”

If you want to involve siblings: “Let’s split this as a family so it’s fair and sustainable.”

The key is to keep repeating: “I want to help.”

Because that’s true. I’m not rejecting them. But I also need to set clear boundaries and expectations. Again, your parents should not be thinking of you as their saviour. They should still take ownership and your role as the adult child is to help them manage that.

IMAGE: 123RF

The love for your parents comes in different forms, not just monetary

I’m still figuring this out in real time. Some days I feel calm and responsible. Other days I see my bank balance and start bargaining with God.

But I know this: I don’t want money to become the thing that ruins my relationship with my parents or even worse, be the basis on which our relationship is built. I want to help them with love, not with resentment. And I want to build a future for myself too, without feeling like I’m choosing one over the other.

So if your parents are retiring soon and you feel that pressure creeping in, you’re not alone. The goal isn’t to be the perfect child. It’s to be a sustainable one.

Because when you support your parents in a way that doesn’t destroy you, you’re not being selfish. You’re making sure you can still show up not just for them, but for yourself, and the life you’re trying to build next.

And honestly? I believe that’s filial piety too.

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