They may love and support you, but your parents shouldn't make the decisions for you. If you want to stay in canada, do so and tell them you're an adult.
I've told them more than once. The adult argument tends not to work out in my favour since they'll proceed to name the things that I haven't done or cannot do or how I can't even pay rent after I get a job, etc. In other words, arguing that route = shit gets real. I have officially come to terms that my parents do not really care what I think when it comes to important life decisions.
How long have you been job searching? Have you told them what you want?
I've been looking for a job since last year around this time. So a full year or so? Granted, half of that period was spent pure studying so maybe like 6 months. It still doesn't look good on your resume when there's a giant blank spot between years. But yeah, I even told them, it isn't that I won't go back to Hong Kong; I want to get my CA certification FIRST before going back. Apparently though this is a huge hurdle seeing as how I haven't gotten much in terms of replies at all. It's also annoying because I have the qualifications and education but I still can't find a simple junior job. Parents being restless is just amping up my own frustration and stress levels.
If they're not funding you, piss them off and do what the fuck you -intend- to. Your life isn't theirs.
If you mean funding as in currently funding, they are doing that. If you mean funding as in will they fund me to go back to Hong Kong, the answer is yes. Including the fact that they will probably buy a flat for me, which I can use for myself. So it's a pretty big deal.
Again, I understand where they're coming from, but the shit my dad gets away with sometimes (not to mention the fact that this is his FAVOURITE topic to talk about during dinner/lunch so every time I eat I have to hear it and it makes me sick) including some really hurtful comments (which doesn't help the situation. Oh and he does this often) is driving me to the end of my fucking rope. I can't blow him off without having some massive family fiasco blow back up in my face, so this really is just an endurance trial of seeing how long I go before I explode, run into the freezing winter night and wind up in a ditch somewhere. Talking about it with him is around as useful trying to cut wood with a nail clipper.
Sorry, I need to vent :|.
More importantly, Everyone learns now why people want to move out! More news at 11. I'll get through it eventually, even if I don't like it. I'm just going stark raving mad around now.