Sometimes I imagine what kind of mom I would be — a future so ahead of myself, I take a step back immediately afterwards. After all, what do I know about parenting?
The idea seems overwhelming. There’s no “right” way — no manual to study or perfect set of values to follow. Being a mother calls for a level of maturity that I probably have not reached yet. To my understanding, parenting means shifting priorities from yourself to another. And it’s a never-ending lesson — every parent is still figuring it out, some way or another, to support their child.
Parents must develop their own hierarchy of priorities for their children. Some prioritize prosperity — their child’s education and career. Some prioritize independence and life experiences. And others, a combination of them all. None of these priorities are inherently right or wrong, but I find that the balance is often lost — especially here in the Bay Area. I could write another thousand words on the culture of ambition and competition that runs through our community, but that conversation has been held plenty already. Living in Silicon Valley, we know we hold unreachable standards of success.
Naturally, many parents here adhere to that. It’s almost a local norm for parents to micromanage everything, from the open tabs on their child’s computer to the minutes they spend outside. Children’s grades are monitored constantly and their locations are tracked as they tiptoe around their fluctuating freedom.
In fact, I have a friend whose entire to-do schedule is determined through strings of texts from their mother, whose every breath is controlled around their father and who feels forced to conceal entire relationships in fear of their parents’ wrath. I have another friend who feels obliged to tell their parents every aspect of their lives and is questioned constantly. I have friends whose punishment for a lacking test score— a minor shortcoming — is being stripped of their privacy entirely.
There’s no room for mistakes, academically or socially.
Part of the reason is that the fear of failure is intergenerational and prevalent, according to a study from PubMed. That fear of failure runs deep in parents, in particular — the Los Angeles Times gathered that around one-third of adults are plagued by it. It’s so deep that they begin to see their children’s mistakes as reflections of their own, and they project that onto their own children. The line between love and control starts to blur, an inevitable given that some parents mistake one for the other.
Yes, parents can warn their children, advise against dating that one boy and worry about their performance in school. That’s just part of parenthood. But when these suggestions shift to dictation, the question that these parents should be asking is this: how will children truly learn without some setbacks?
Wishing the best doesn’t always mean pulling them back before every fall. A failed friendship, a regretful study habit and a missed opportunity are all natural lessons that no parent can teach their kids themselves. In fact, a different study from PubMed found that when parents gave pure action plans without much collaborative support, kids’ fears of making mistakes increased. The Cleveland Clinic informs that this fear can quickly turn unhealthy, commonly inducing anxiety, low self-esteem and procrastination.
I can’t speak for every family, but I can speak for mine. My parents have always been hands-off in a way that’s intentional. They don’t stalk my Aeries profile, grill me about every assignment in the gradebook or track my location by the minute. They don’t even know all my classes this semester because they trust that I’ll carry my own responsibilities. They see me struggle, but they give me space to figure it out instead of rushing in to fix it. People around me call them the “chill” parents, but I believe that label misses the point.
My parents aren’t just chill. They believe that their job is to raise someone into a world of independence and resilience. They will be okay with some bad grades. They will understand when I prioritize something they don’t initially support. They’re okay with some dumb decisions because they know I will learn from them.
I think, if I were to be a parent, I would let my children fail. I would let them determine their own pace in recovering from their mistakes, let them figure out their lessons to learn and choices to make. I would redirect them from the generational fear of failure.
