HOME | DD

Description
Everyone, instantaneously: Tiger mom.

Yes, but also no.

Growing up, my career path has been strongly influenced by what my parents saw as success. My parents were never the strict definition of tiger parents. I always felt an internal need to get A’s, but I was never punished for getting lower grades. It was the anticipated disappointment that drove me. I wanted to be like whom they admired; they often talked of their friends’ kids who were pediatricians, ophthalmologists, anesthesiologists, so on. And as the years passed by, I became my own tiger mom. I watched over myself, dedicating myself to improvement and pushing myself to my limits. It’s tiring though. The friction between my tiger self and my corporeal body wears me down.

“Just one more pset!”

“But it’s not due until tomorrow evening!”

“But whAT IF YOU DON’T FINISH?”

“u rite u rite”

The tiger self usually wins out. The anticipated disappointment—not meeting a deadline, not presenting my best work, not preparing well enough for a test—drives me, sometimes beyond what is mentally healthy. But I am beginning to learn that success is not defined by the lack of sleep or the looming stress. That friction is a good driving force, but it does not always need to exist. The tigress must put down the strings at some point, for the puppeteer and the marionette have a show tomorrow too.

Description
Everyone, instantaneously: Tiger mom.

Yes, but also no.

Growing up, my career path has been strongly influenced by what my parents saw as success. My parents were never the strict definition of tiger parents. I always felt an internal need to get A’s, but I was never punished for getting lower grades. It was the anticipated disappointment that drove me. I wanted to be like whom they admired; they often talked of their friends’ kids who were pediatricians, ophthalmologists, anesthesiologists, so on. And as the years passed by, I became my own tiger mom. I watched over myself, dedicating myself to improvement and pushing myself to my limits. It’s tiring though. The friction between my tiger self and my corporeal body wears me down.

“Just one more pset!”

“But it’s not due until tomorrow evening!”

“But whAT IF YOU DON’T FINISH?”

“u rite u rite”

The tiger self usually wins out. The anticipated disappointment—not meeting a deadline, not presenting my best work, not preparing well enough for a test—drives me, sometimes beyond what is mentally healthy. But I am beginning to learn that success is not defined by the lack of sleep or the looming stress. That friction is a good driving force, but it does not always need to exist. The tigress must put down the strings at some point, for the puppeteer and the marionette have a show tomorrow too.